


Deserving

by MizDiablo



Series: Yielding [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe, Angst, Clint Barton & Tony Stark Friendship, Dom Bucky Barnes, Dom Natasha Romanov, Dom Phil Coulson, Dom Steve Rogers, Dom/sub, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Light Bondage, M/M, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, POV Alternating, Pining, Sleep Deprivation, Sub Clint Barton, Sub Tony Stark, Subdrop, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-02-16 13:44:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 25,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18692692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizDiablo/pseuds/MizDiablo
Summary: With Steve and Bucky finding a sub in Tony and Natasha finding Bruce, Clint is the only unbonded on the team. He is also the only sub. It’s okay, it’s nothing less than what he deserves.





	1. Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.

**Author's Note:**

> I got one comment asking for more after ‘You Know You Need Me’ and then this happened. Yes, I’m *that* easy.
> 
> So here is more in the same ’verse, but with a different focus.
> 
> Any technology, science, medicine and recovery is purely madey-uppy and has very little to do with the real world.
> 
> Note that the rating has been changed to Explicit due to the addition of a few more chapters :)

Clint loves working with Steve and Bucky, really, he does. Especially now, where they are both doing so much better. Finding their sub, Tony, had done wonders for both Bucky and Steve. Of course no one had really talked about how miserable Steve had been, he never let them. But it had been bad, they all knew it.

It is so much better now. Both of them are as happy as they had been before, maybe even more, and Steve has even talked about a Natural Bond. Bucky had just laughed and said that Tony didn’t believe in that sort of thing. Still, they both seem very happy and in love. Clint is happy for them.

But that means that he is the only one on the team without a bond. Sure, Bucky and Steve had been together before this, but they were both doms, so it had been different. Even Natasha had found a sub, Bruce. And she deserves him, she really does. She deserves the soft-spoken scientist who looks at her with such adoration in his eyes. She deserves every happiness in the world and so much more.

Clint loves Natasha, he always has. But he could not recall ever being _in love_ with her. Sure, they had been together for a while, but it was never like that. She was a great dom and had been very good to him, but they both knew it wasn’t to be a bond.

So Clint is alone. He has been since Natasha. She still helps him, when he needs to drop, but there is nothing sexual in it anymore. It is uncommon, but not unusual. Most doms prefer to have sex with their subs, but it isn’t necessary. Natasha helps him as a friend, but she has her own sub now. Bruce knows, of course, and Natasha says he doesn’t mind, but Clint does. He takes time away from the two of them to get something he doesn’t deserve.

Natasha had always known him better than anyone, so it really shouldn’t be a surprise to find her outside his door, arms crossed and a demanding glint in her green eyes. “Who’s been taking care of you?”

“Nat?” Clint shouldn’t have been surprised, but he is. His mind is too loud for him to focus.

“I expected your call two days ago. I expected you to say something at work yesterday. Neither of those things happened, so I ask again, who is taking care of you?” She says, pushing past him into the apartment like she belongs there. In some ways, she does.

“No one. I just don’t – “ Clint starts, closing the door, but Natasha turns and pokes a finger at his chest. “No. Don’t give me that bullshit. We both know that’s a lie. I’m going to have to punish you for this.”

He bends his head and doesn’t say anything. Really, what could he say? They both know the truth.

Natasha’s voice softens as she puts a gentle hand on his cheek, lifting his face to meet his eyes. “If only I knew you were doing this to get punished.”

“I’m sorry.” He whispers.

“I know you are.” She says gently, kissing his forehead before letting him go. “Take off your shirt and get on your knees by the rod.”

The rod. It could be a coat hanger, except it’s only waist high and can take his entire weight no problem. He should have expected this too. And he did, at least some part of him did. Letting Natasha take control is easy and familiar. It doesn’t make the guilt go away, but it does make the rest of him feel better. He folds his hands in his lap and wait for her. She knows where to find what she needs.

He doesn’t have to wait long. He never hears her walking, but he feels her presence as she stands behind him for a moment. He knows what she looks like when she is like this. Red hair pulled in a high tail, dressed only in a sports bra and pants, her feet bare. At times she has been completely naked or fully dressed, but that was when they were together. This is different and he likes knowing she treats it differently.

She binds his arms together from wrist to elbow before tying him to the rod. It’s not uncomfortable, but he can’t move and he has to keep his back straight as not to hurt his arms with the pull. Already his mind seemed quieter.

Natasha grabbed his hair and pulled his head back, bringing tears to his eyes. “Not yet.” She said firmly. “Why do you get punished?”

“Because I… I didn’t call you…” He says. She pulls his hair again. “Why?” She asks again.

“Because I’m… I’m not supposed to be careless with my health…” He gasps and she lets go of his head, making it fall down.

“I care about you Clint. I hate seeing you like this, especially when I know I can help you.” She doesn’t warn him about the first hit and he lets out a surprised sound. She doesn’t make him count or warn him, just hits him irregularly with the cane until his back feels like fire. It’s good. It helps. He’s not sure he won’t do the same next time, but for now he feels better.

When she stops, it’s hard to focus and his head is quieter. But when Natasha kneels down to free his hands, he whines. He’s not ready for that, he needs to stay controlled. Natasha runs her fingers through his hair. “Shhh, it’s okay. I’m just going to move you to the bedroom so I can treat your back, okay?” She says gently and Clint nods slowly. He trusts her. She knows how to take care of him. He is very grateful that they agree that when a punishment is over, it’s over. No need for the pain to linger.

She unties the bonds and rubs the feeling back into his arms before helping him to his feet and guiding him to his bed, where he lays down on his stomach. She binds his hands to the headboard, making sure he can move his arms a little but not get anywhere. She gently washes his back with a soft cloth before rubbing a numbing cream onto the marks. When the pain is gone, she keeps rubbing his muscles until he is floating and unaware of anything but her hands.

When the world comes back into focus, Natasha is holding him, breathing slowly. They are close on the small bed. The room is dark and quiet, both inside and outside his head. Clint immediately feels a stab of guilt. She should be with Bruce, not him. Bruce deserves her so much more than he does.

They don’t want him to think like that of course. They get upset when he does, Steve, Bucky, Nat, Phil. God, Clint does not want to think about Phil right now.

He must have moved, because Natasha opens her eyes to look at him. “Hey. How’re you feeling?”

“I’m fine.” He says, making her raise an eyebrow. “Like you were fine before?”

“No, I… I wasn’t fine before… I’m sorry…” He says quietly.

“I know.” Her fingers gently caress his face. “You drop into depression so fast Clint. You have to be aware of that, it takes away your feeling of self worth.”

He doesn’t look at her, doesn’t answer. It’s not the withdrawal or the depression that affects how he sees himself. That doesn’t change. It just makes it harder to hide.

Natasha stays with him all night. At some point he drifts off to sleep, safe in her arms. It’s such a rare feeling for him and even through the guilt he enjoys it, just a little. He wishes he didn’t, but he can’t help it. He wishes he could let Natasha go back to Bruce and be with her actual sub instead of letting her deal with Clint’s mess. He wants to tell her to leave, but he can’t. He is too selfish for that. So he stays in her arms and feels safe and guilty until morning.

When they get up, she makes breakfast for them and makes him sit at her feet while she feeds him. It makes the world feel distant and unimportant. He forgets the guilt for a while, but it’s back when she leaves, hugging him and telling him to take it easy for the rest of the day. He will. He will see her at work tomorrow and she will ask what he did after she left. He’ll tell the truth. He’ll be good. He can at least do that.

When she is gone, he goes back to bed and hides under the covers, waiting for the day to be over so he can fill his time with work. He should be feeling better, but it’s not enough anymore. He doesn’t tell her, doesn’t tell anyone. If they knew how much he wants, how much he needs… Keeping his job is hard enough as it is.

Clint is good. Really good. He knows that. If he weren’t the best sniper S.H.I.E.L.D. had, he would not be allowed in the field. Bucky is almost as good as Clint, but even on a bad day, Clint can give him a run for his money.

Clint is never close to the enemy. Of course not, he can’t be. Not as a sub. When the fight comes close, he pulls back and lets Bucky take over. It does bother Clint sometimes. He is a skilled fighter, but he knows that it would only take a strong enough command to make him a liability in the field, even with his training. So he falls back and lets the doms fight.

The hearing aid actually helps. When it’s off, he can’t hear the shouting of the battle and won’t react to any commands that the enemy might try to use against him, if they found out. He is not declared, not publicly, but that never stopped the enemy from trying. They always try to command anyone who will listen. So Clint turns off his hearing aid and refuses to listen.

He goes to work the next day and tells Natasha that he relaxed and watched TV after she left. It’s somewhat true. The TV was on and he was there, but he can’t remember anything he saw. She smiles at him and squeezes his hand before leaving for her training. Clint goes to fill some rapports because he somehow is always behind on that and lets work fill his day. It helps a little. While he works he can ignore everything else going on in his head. When he gets home, he turns on the TV and sits in front of it, never seeing anything until he falls asleep.

A few days pass like that. It’s not ideal, it never was, but it works most of the time.

Wednesday he goes to Stark Tower with Natasha to see where Steve and Bucky live now, because they apparently only had to know Tony for a few weeks before moving into his goddamn tower. It’s their first time meeting Tony, so Natasha and Clint have both promised to be nice.

The Tower is imposing and very modern. Sleek metal and straight lines everywhere they look. People in suits walking back and forth. The pretty front desk receptionist smiles at them when they introduce themselves and point them to a private elevator, letting them know that “Mr. Stark is expecting them.”

In the elevator, Natasha adjusts his clothes with a tired smile and laughs when he ruffles her hair in retaliation. He hardly does any damaged, he is too smart for that, and by the time the elevator stops, she looks impeccable again.

Steve greets them with a bright smile the moment they step out of the elevator and into the living room. He looks genuinely happy again. It’s very nice to see. After Bucky was… After everything that happened, Steve would only smile half. His eyes always seemed sad, even when Bucky got back. No one talked about it, no one talks about Captain America falling apart, but they all knew. Getting Bucky back helped, but both of them were hurting and desperately trying not to let the other one see, so they never really got better. They are better now, both of them. So much better and it makes Clint glad to see.

Steve leads them to Bucky, who smiles and waves at them from where he is still setting the table and Tony, who is looking a little nervous. Clint only saw him once before, the day the rescued him, and he never got close. Even if he hadn’t kept his distance, Bucky had been rather protective of the small, huddled form he carried out when everyone else was dead. Tony looks different now, standing in a well-tailored suit, looking almost as impeccable as Natasha. He is smaller than his boyfriends, but since both Steve and Bucky are insane soldier doms, that’s not really a surprise. They are bigger than most people.

Clint and Natasha have done their research and know a lot about Tony Stark. Probably more of the public stuff than Bucky and Steve does, but seeing as the public never knew Tony to be a sub, they undoubtedly can’t trust everything.

Still, he knows enough to see that the smile that replaces the nervousness on Tony’s face is the same one he usually gives reporters. It’s a blinding media smile that has nothing to do with how he actually feels.

“So, this is the rest of the team.” Tony says, sauntering over and extending his hand to first Natasha then Clint. “I’d say ‘thank you’s are in order. I rather enjoy the ‘not being held captive’ part of my life.” Tony’s smile is still empty, but his eyes are grateful and Clint suspects that he is far more sincere than the joke he is trying to play it of as. Natasha just smiles back. “Steve loves to play the hero and we know better than to let him do it alone by now.”

Her words make Steve flush and Bucky laugh, as he jostles their shoulders together. They are all smiling when Steve gets a semblance of control back and tell them to sit down for dinner.

Around the table are only chairs, no floor pillows. Clint lets out a breath he never knew he had been holding. While subs rarely sit on the floor in public, in a private setting like this it would not be unexpected for him to be placed on the floor. Tony must know, Steve or Bucky would have told him, but maybe they are right about Tony being different. Tony is a sub too, but when you listen to the way his soldiers talk about him, you would never know. It is not surprising that he was able to pass himself of as dominant for so long.

Clint doesn’t actually have a problem being on the floor for a dom, not in private. He used sit at Natasha’s feet when they were together, he likes that sometimes. But only in private, only with his dom. Not at a dinner. He is rather glad Tony expects them all to sit at the table.

Tony talks a lot during dinner. It’s loud and vibrant and nothing at all. It’s what he lets the media see, the self-confident playboy with a dazzling smile and enough jokes to keep people from getting to know him at all. Natasha and Bucky follow him easily, but Steve mostly watches him and Clint can’t muster the energy to follow the conversation.

When they clean up after dinner, Steve goes to Tony, putting a gentle hand on the small of his back. They are far away and Steve’s voice is low, but being half deaf meant that Clint had to learn to lip-read at a young age and he can see what Steve is saying. “You don’t have to be this, Tony. They’ll like you as you are.” Tony sags a little at the words, loosing a bit of the front as he leans into Steve.

Then Bucky calls from the living room and Steve goes to him, giving Tony a moment to compose himself. Clint goes into the kitchen and Tony looks at him with surprise.

Clint smiles. “You don’t have to worry, you know. We see what you do to them, how you make them smile. You could be the biggest dick in the universe and we would still do our best to like you, because you’re good for them.”

Tony looks even more surprised at that, before collecting himself a bit. “Eavesdropping on your host? Not very nice Barton.”

Clint just shrugs. “Occupational hazard. Besides, I was lip reading. It’s not the same.”

Tony smiles. A real smile this time. It’s smaller and more insecure than the media smile, but it reaches his eyes. “So, you’ll like me even f I turn out to be a complete ass?”

“I’ll try. I mean, Steve and Bucky like you, how bad could you be?”

“Those men are not known to make the most sensible decisions.” Tony counters with a wry smile.

“True. They are both idiots. But somehow, they are our idiots and we put up with them anyway.” Clint blinks and the smile on Tony’s face becomes less insecure.

They go back to the others and Tony slowly strips off the public face. It doesn’t make him another person entirely; it just makes him a little… less intense… Easier to talk to, more interested in others. It’s nice. By the end of the night, Tony is leaning against Steve, telling them about the time one of his bots set his lab on fire. (Bots. Robots. Because Tony Stark makes robots and treat the a little like his children. That is apparently completely normal.) Bucky is sitting on Tony’s other side, idly caressing his hand with his fingers. It looks… Nice. They all seem safe and happy. Clint wonders what that would be like and then immediately scolds himself. He does not deserve that, he knows. He needs to stop forgetting that.

It’s late when they leave and he follows Natasha home before returning to his own apartment. It seems small and empty compared to Tony’s penthouse.

Three agents corner him at work the next day. He knows this game well. Being a sub in the field means he has to train resting commands, both expected and unexpected. They tell him he is surprisingly good at it, even if it doesn’t feel like it. It makes sense though. He is a bad sub, he is undeserving. Why not also be able to resist commands? It’s not like anyone will ever want him.

They don’t actually need to be three people. Even two doms commanding the same sub usually just counteracts each other and three would not make it better. No, two of them are to make sure they are not disturbed. Clint knows it’s for his sake, to give him a semblance of privacy, but it doesn’t change the fact that it is his colleagues trying to control him. Even worse is knowing that Phil is somewhere nearby, even if Clint can’t see him. Agent Coulson always oversees the training.

“Get on your knees Agent.” One of them says with that tone of voice that is definitely a command.

“No.” Clint says, looking him in the eye. Mostly this just pisses him off, even if he can see how it rationally is a good idea. Better here, with people who will help him and take care of him, than in the field. Still, none of them are his dom. They have no right to control him.

“I said, get to your knees!” The agent tries again.

“No.” Clint repeats, clenching his hands into fists. He has never met the agent before. He will not yield to him, not to any of them.

They keep going for a while. Usually it’s around fifteen minutes, but it always feels like longer. Resisting is taxing, everything in him is screaming for him to yield, to be good, to obey, but he stays on his feet. When Agent Coulson stops them, Clint is breathing hard and shaking faintly. He hopes no one notices. He is still standing. Coulson sends the other agents away before turning to Clint.

“Good work Agent Barton.” He says. Clint just nods and leaves as soon as he is dismissed. He doesn’t trust his voice. The praise hums under his skin, but it’s not enough, it’s never enough. He needs so much more. He is greedy and ungrateful and deserves nothing.

He makes it back to his office and locks the door before collapsing on the floor. He spends the next hour trying to remember how to breathe. Someone knocks on the door at some point, but he doesn’t answer and they don’t knock again.

When he is sitting with his back to the wall, getting his bearing, he gets a message from Natasha. She must have heard by now and she is probably worried. She knows a little more than the others what this does to him, but not all of it. If she did, if anyone did, he would loose his job.

 **Nat** : Phil told me. You okay?  
**Clint** : I’m fine. Just catching my breath.  
**Nat** : Do you need me?  
**Clint** : No. Go home to Bruce. I’m fine.  
**Nat** : You sure?  
**Clint** : Yes. I have done this before.

And he has. Several times. He just needs to collect himself enough to get home and drop like a rock into the cold, dark place that always follows. Tomorrow, he can go back to work and pretend he did not have a miserable night. He has done it before.

It takes another half hour before he can stand steadily and a little more before he is confident he won’t fall on the way out. He leaves quickly, taking shortcuts most people have no idea about and avoids meeting anyone.

He gets home just in time to stumble into his bedroom, roll up in the covers and disappear into darkness. It’s cold and unyielding and painful, but it’s a price he has to pay to be a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. He deserves nothing less.

Natasha finds him before work the next day.

“How are you feeling?” She asks, looking carefully at him. Clint just shrugs. “I’m fine Nat, I told you. Like always.”

Her mouth forms a thin line, but they enter S.H.I.E.L.D. and Clint goes to the gym before she can say anything else. Physical training is easier. Sparing with Bucky has never been a problem for either of them. Bucky is stronger than Clint, especially with the arm that keeps getting upgrades from Tony, but Clint is faster and more flexible. Bucky still wins most of the time, but Clint doesn’t mind. They go through their mistakes afterwards so they can do better next time.

“Tony had fun the other night.” Bucky says when they are in the locker room afterwards. “I’m glad he liked you.”

“I had fun too. He seems nice, when he’s not trying to impress people.” Clint says, drying his hair with a towel.

“We might have told him enough about you to make him nervous.” Bucky smiles. “But he is wonderful when you get past the media façade. He’s sweet and smart and generous and – ”

Clint rolls his eyes and throws his towel at Bucky, who ducks out of the way with a laugh. It’s fine that they are happy and in love, but Steve is supposed to be the sap and there is only so much gushing over Tony that Clint can take.

They dress in comfortable silence. It’s really nice to be able to do that. For a long time, Clint was hesitant about being alone with a dom, especially in a vulnerable situation where he is naked and showering, but he trusts Bucky. He trusts Bucky and Steve and Natasha and Phil. Phil is never in the showers with them, of course, he is no longer active in the field and Natasha usually gets to shower alone before them, to give her some privacy. But Clint would trust her. It’s not like she hasn’t seen him naked before. He still prefers not to be alone in the locker room with dom agents he doesn’t know that well, but it’s easier than it used to be.

“Clint, do you think… Would you mind spending some time with Tony, just the two of you? He doesn’t have any sub friends and I think he likes you…” Bucky asks after a while, not looking at Clint.

“Sure, if he wants to.” Clint says. Bucky is still pretty uncomfortable about dom and sub stuff, it’s often pretty funny. Never having had a sub before Tony and being in a relationship with Steve meant that he never really had to care about it. Clint doesn’t mind. If he can help Tony by seeing him, sure he’ll do it. He’d just like it more if it had nothing to do with designations, but that’s not the way the world works.

So he goes to visit Tony and is led to a huge workroom inside the Tower. Tony is working on… Something. Clint has no idea. He can only see that it involves metal, wires and a lot of welding. He waits for JARVIS, the AI that Tony also made, to make his presence known to the engineer before getting too close to the sparks.

Tony smiles and removes his goggles. “Barton. Welcome. Hand me that wrench.” He points to the table next to Clint before going back to whatever he is working on. Clint picks up a wrench and hands it to him. “What is it?”

“This?” Tony says, taking the wrench and turning the thing over in his hands. “It’s nothing yet. But at some point it’s going to be a propulsion system. I don’t know what to use it for yet, but I’ll think of something.” He smiles and it’s a very different smile from the first one Clint saw. It’s bright and genuine and excited. Clint finds a chair under some dirty rags and a surprisingly big spring and sits on the table with his feet on it while Tony talks more about what he is making. Less than half make any sense to Clint, but he is beginning to see why Steve always gets that dreamy look in his eyes when he talks about Tony and his work. It’s fascinating to watch, even when you don’t understand any of it.

After a while, Tony seems to realise that he is the only one talking and slows down a little. “So, Mister Secret Agent Man, why are you here, in my workshop, listening to my genius?”

”Bucky though you might want a sub friend. Apparently, we’re supposed to have that.” Clint smiles wryly. Tony huffs a little. “Right. He said something about that. Not that I would know, with me keeping my designation a secret and everything. I mostly tried to avoid anything to do with designations before this. Is this something that people do? Become friends because they have the same designation? Or because their doms tell them to?”

“They mean well, but they don’t really understand what it is like for us. Being a dom is rather different from being a sub I think.” Clint says, rolling the chair at his feet back and forth on the floor. “So sometimes, when they try to help, they do it in rather ham-fisted ways. I’m here because Bucky asked. If you want, I can just leave again, no hard feelings.”

“No, it’s fine. You listened to my ramblings, so you can’t be all bad.” Tony says with a smile, turning his own chair towards Clint. “So, my designation appropriate friend, tell me about yourself. How did you come to work for S.H.I.E.L.D., being…” Tony waves his hand vaguely.

“An orphaned carny runaway sub?” Clint says with a smile. Tony raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t know half of that. I was going to say sniper.”

Clint laughs and pulls the chair closer, so he can place on foot on the back of it. “It was Phil really. Agent Coulson, have they told you about him?”

“Yeah, he’s your boss, right?” Tony says.

“That’s one way to put it. P– Agent Coulson gives us our missions and guides us from base. He is rarely in the field anymore, but he is still on of our best agents.”

“Sounds like you like working for him.” Tony says and only years of training as a spy lets Clint maintain eye contact when he answers. “We all do. He put our team together. He found us. He found me… He found me in a circus, preforming trick shots with bow and arrow.”

Tony looks surprised. “Using an archaic weapon to impress children and old people? How’d that work out for you?”

“Pretty damn well. I am a very skilled archer. I even had a costume and a stage name, Hawkeye. I could shoot anything put in front of me.”

“Do you use a bow at work?” Tony asks.

“No, S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn’t think of it as a useful weapon in the field. It’s a shame. I miss it. I’m actually better with that than with a gun, but according to S.H.I.E.L.D. guns are more reliable.” Clint’s voice gets a little wistful. He still shoots for leisure and he is teaching Bucky, because he thinks it’s fun, but he can’t devote as much time to it as he would like.

“Do you think you can show me sometimes?” Tony says, something in his eyes that Clint can’t decipher. “Sure.” He says, wondering only a little. “There is a range at S.H.I.E.L.D. we can use. I can take you sometime.”

Tony nods, but his eyes are far away, lost in thought. Bucky says that sometimes Tony’s mind goes a million miles an hour and he stops listening to the slow moving people around him. It seems Clint is experiencing that now. He just waits quietly, looking around the workshop and watching the bots.

It’s almost an hour later when Steve comes and breaks Tony’s thousand-yard stare, inviting Clint to join them for dinner. Since Clint can’t cook and Bucky can, he accepts happily. When he finally goes home, he is happy and full. Maybe seeing Tony once in a while isn’t a bad thing after all.


	2. Failing

Clint really should have gone to Natasha yesterday. Actually, he should have gone to her the day before. But she had just gotten home from a mission and Bruce was so happy, so Clint said nothing and let them have a bit of time. He was going to talk to her when she had more time. Now he is on a mission and it’s a little too hard to focus considering he’s supposed to be the sniper. But he grits his teeth and does his job, because he is good at this and he is not so scattered that he can’t keep his team safe.

When he pulls out, the fight is a little too close for comfort and he can’t get away without getting in the way of the others, so he finds a protected nook and hides, turning down his hearing aid. That’s why he doesn’t hear the explosion. He feels it. A second before all hell breaks loose, he feels the tremor in the ground and looks up only to see a wall of fire in front of him. The ground stops being beneath him and he is slammed into the concrete wall behind him. He doesn’t even feel the pain as darkness swallows him.

He does feel the pain when he wakes up again. A lot of pain. He groans and keeps his eyes closes, trying to assess the damages. Bruised, maybe broken ribs on both sides, definitely a concussion, bruises everywhere and what feels like a strained ankle. All in all bad, but not as bad as it could have been. He has a feeling he is lucky to be alive.

He’s not pinned down and the air seems clear of debris. He can’t hear anything, but that seems to be a problem with the hearing aid. He opens his eyes slowly. There is grey concrete above him. It doesn’t look damaged at all. Turning his head slowly, he sees that there is no debris around him either. He is not on the site, but he’s not in a S.H.I.E.L.D. medical facility either. He is in a small, dark concrete room with a reinforced door.

It is as bad as it can be.

Getting to his feet takes a while and when he reaches the door, it’s locked. Not that he’s surprised. He recognizes a cell when he sees one. Fuck.

He expects someone to come by when they find out he is awake, but no one does. The only thing that happens is that the light in the room gets brighter. It happens slowly and for a while, he doesn’t even notice. He is sitting against the wall, as far from the door as possible, trying to breath without damaging his ribs more when he notices that he is casting a shadow now. He didn’t when he woke up.

He has no weapons. Whoever found him has searched him thoroughly, finding all the hidden knives and guns in his uniform. They’ve taken his hearing aid too, probably mistaking it for a communications device. It actually does both. He is not completely deaf without it, but he can’t hear much. So he is stuck in a very quiet, very bright room.

When he lies down, covering his eyes with an arm to keep the light out, the cell is suddenly not quiet anymore. At first, it’s muted, like everything else without the hearing aid, but then the volume increases and the muted sound becomes a blaring alarm. It’s deafening, even for him, and he has to move his arm from his eyes to cover his ears. It’s still deafening and the lights are flashing now. If he is screaming, he can’t hear it.

It lasts a few minutes. It lasts forever. When it stops, his head is ringing and he is sick on the floor. The heaving hurts his ribs and he is shaking when it’s finally over. The light is still too bright, but at least it’s quiet again.

It continues like that. Every time he starts to fall asleep, the light and sound returns. He stops throwing up after the first few times, mostly because there is nothing left in him to throw up anymore. He has no idea how long it takes. It might just be hours, but it feels like years.

After a while, he doesn’t stop shaking, even when the sound and the flashing lights have been gone for a while. He is lying on the floor, but keep his eyes open as much as he can. If he closes them for too long, it all starts over again. But he can only fight sleep for so long.

At first he doesn’t even notice that the door opens. Even with his eyes open, he’s not really awake anymore. He does notice when someone grabs him and pulls him to his feet, sharply reminding him of the sprained ankle when he tries to stand. He lets out a yell, but his captors just drag him between them out of the cell and into another room.

They let go of him and he falls to the floor. There is a murmur of voices above him, but he can’t make the words out. When someone grabs his hair to pull up his head, Clint kicks their legs out from underneath them. It’s not the hurt ankle, so he can get a lot of force behind it and the man falls down next to him. Then more people are above him, grabbing his arms and legs, holding him and turning him to face a man, sitting in a chair. The man is smiling. When he speaks, Clint can read his lips, even if he can’t hear the words.

“Still so much spirit Agent. I like that. Tell me your name.”

It might be a command, his eyes have that look, but without hearing the words, it has no effect on Clint. Even less so when he closes his eyes and turns his head. They talk for a while, but he stays still and in the end, they drag him back to the cell. Back to the sound and the light. They leave him there again.

Time has no meaning when they come back for him. This time, someone shoves the hearing aid into his ear before taking him back to the other room. He tries to get free, but he has very little leverage with only one foot for support and there are several of them, so he can’t keep them from pushing him to the floor.

“Still fighting, huh? Too stubborn for your own good.”

The man’s voice is somewhere above him. Not angry, no, not at all. His voice is patient and slightly amused. “Look at me sub.”

It’s a command. This is why he trained, why he lets his colleagues try to order him around. He is able to resist most of the time, even if he never gets into close combat. He can resist a lot of commands on a good day and he has. It must have been days by now, but he is not sure. Time is something he lost in their hands. And he is tired. He is so tired.

“Look at me!”

His head jerk involuntarily, but he keeps his eyes on the floor. The man hums and there is a smile in his voice. “See, now we are getting somewhere. You want to be good, don’t you? You haven’t been trained, but that’s not your fault.”

The words make Clint’s body shake hot and cold all at once. He wants to be good and he wants to get away. He wants to fight and lie down and surrender and kill everyone in the room. He wants to scream and beg.

“It’s not that hard. I’m sure you won’t even break any rules with S.H.I.E.L.D. You’re not telling me anything, right? You just have to look at me. Then you can sleep. You must be tired. So, look at me!”

This time, he can’t stop himself. His head snaps up and he looks at the man above him, not seeing anything but dark, commanding eyes.

“Good boy.” There is a hand in his hair and he can’t stop the sound he makes. It’s small and broken. He knows he shouldn’t. This shouldn’t feel good, but he can’t… He is so tired and hurt and greedy and he can’t stop himself.

“I’m going to train you to be good for me. Say ‘thank you Master’.”

His mouth opens, but no words come out and he snaps it shut again.

“Say it!” The hand in his hair pulls his head back and the command is firmer this time. Each command is harder to resist.

“Th… Thank you… Master…” His voice is hoarse and broken and the words are acid in his mouth. The hand lets go of his hair and starts stroking it again. The man is smiling. “Good. Such a good boy for me.” The he lets go and leaves the room, talking to one of the guards. “Take him away.”

They let him sleep for a few hours after that, no lights, no sounds. It doesn’t help.

When they bring him back, the man is sitting in a chair next to a small table. Clint is thrown at his feet, his ribs burning like fire when he slams to the hard concrete. The man lean a little forwards and smile.

“Welcome back dear boy. Now, let’s get right into it, shall we?”

Clint curls around himself on the floor, hoping to block the man out, just a little. It doesn’t help.

“Now now, don’t be shy. I know you can be good, you showed me yesterday.” A hand grabs his hair and pulls him up, so he is face to face with the man, who never stops speaking. “But I also know they broke you. Training a sub to resist commands? Tsk tsk, no wonder they left you like that. You must know no dominant would want a submissive that will resist them. They broke you and left you, poor boy.”

The man lets go of his hair and Clint slumps back to the floor on hands and knees. He has to fight. The others, they will come for him, won’t they? His team. They must know by now. They have to come.

“Not to worry. I’m here to help you. I’ll teach you to be good.” The man reaches to the table and gets something. A long piece of leather. A collar with a leash. Clint pulls away, trying to get up, but the man just grabs his shoulder, holding him down.

“Stop that! You want to be good, don’t you? This will help you.”

Clint tries to fight, he really does. He is just so tired. He wants to be good. The man could help him. But he is not supposed to listen to commands. He is supposed to fight.

“Now, be still. There we go…” The man leans in and puts the collar around his neck, a little too tight. He can feel it when he breaths and it hurts to swallow. The man is smiling, still holding Clint by the neck.

“Say ‘thank you for collaring me, Master.’”

Clint bites down hard. The man is not his master, not his dom, not his friend. He is the enemy. Clint can resist commands. He can resist all the nameless agents they send to him. He can resist this.

“Say it!” The man’s grip tightens around his neck.

No. No no no no no no no no no no.

“Say it boy!”

His mouth falls open, moving without any words for a moment.

“I know you can be good. Now, say thank you.”

“Thank you…” It’s hoarse and broken and acid again.

“For what, dear boy? Say it.” The man does not let go.

“Thank you for… For collaring me… Master…”

“Good boy.” The man lets go and Clint collapses on the floor, chest heaving like he just fought for his life. The man sits back in his chair with a smile and the leash in his hand. “Now, tell me your name.”

Closing his eyes, Clint turns his head away from the man. He can do this. He has to. He might be a bad and undeserving sub, but he is a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent goddammit. He can’t be a liability.

“Come now.” The man says, tugging at the leash, jerking Clint a little closer to his chair. It hurts and Clint makes a strangled sound. “It’s just your name dear boy. Really, what damaged can that do? It’s just a name. I know they broke you, they made you resist your natural instincts, go against everything you are. I will help you get better. I will teach you. I’m asking so very little of you, such a small thing for you to be good.” His voice is gentle and patient, not even commanding. But then he pulls hard on the leash and drags Clint so close that he can grab the archer’s neck and force him to his knees.

Holding Clint’s neck in a tight grip, the man’s voice changes to a command and his eyes borer into Clint’s. Everything but the voice and the eyes fade away.

“Tell me your name!”

“B-Barton…” He gasps, fighting for air in the man’s grip.

The man lets go of him and Clint collapses into his legs. It burns when his aching ribs hit the man’s knees, but Clint is too preoccupied with breathing to notice. The man tightens the leash and forces Clint to stay leaning against his legs. The man reaches out with his free hand and combs through Clint’s hair.

“Barton? Such a nice name. Such a good boy for me, doing so well. I know you just want to be good, just want to please your master, but they broke you and left you. S.H.I.E.L.D. is careless with its tools. They have forgotten you already. I won’t forget. I’ll take good care of you.”

The words burn under his skin and Clint bites his tongue not to make a sound. It feels wonderful and horrible all at once. He has to get away, to find his team. He has to get away from the man. He is still leaning against his legs, letting the stranger pet his hair and he can’t bring himself to move. He will, in a moment. He just needs another second. He is greedy and weak and has failed his team. They are right to abandon him like this. Maybe he is broken.

“One last thing before we end today.” The man says, scratching behind Clint’s ear like he’s a dog. For a moment Clint wants to cry, but he’s not sure if it’s with relief, anger, humiliation, exhaustion or a combination, so he bites his cheek and squeezes his eyes shut to keep them back. The man doesn’t seem to notice.

“I am curious about your friends. Tell me the name of one of them, then you can eat and sleep. Maybe we can even find something for the pain.” The man continues, his voice gentle and coaxing, but Clint steels himself. He might be broken and undeserving, but he will not betray his friends.

“Tell me. You want to be good for me. Tell me. Tell me!” It’s as much of a raised voice as the man has ever had, but Clint doesn’t answer. Not this time. It’s taking everything in him to resist, but he keeps thinking about Natasha, Steve, Bucky… Phil… He can’t fail them anymore than he already has.

The man stands abruptly and Clint falls to the floor. The man leaves without a word and Clint is dragged back to his cell. The minute he closes his eye, the lights and sounds are back.

The next time they come for him, they don’t bother taking him from the cell. Two men pull him to his feet while a third pulls out a nasty looking whip. “Bad subs get punished.” He says before the first blow lands.

It’s nothing like what Natasha does to him. Every hit is meant to draw blood and sends a fire through his hurt chest. When they finally stop, the man speaks again, but Clint is too busy just trying to breathe to understand any of the words. Then they leave him and he curls up on the floor. A moment later the sounds make him jolt and open his eyes, trying to keep them that way.


	3. Searching

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All your lovely comments and kudos bring life and joy to my cold dark heart :)

Steve wakes up with dust in his lungs and ash in his mouth. Coughing sends jolts of pain through his body and makes his head throb.

Trying to move only causes more pain and the realization that he can’t. His leg is pinned under something too heavy for him to move. Opening his eyes, he sees a large piece of rubble covering him from the waist down. It hurts, but nothing feels broken and he can breathe now that the dust has settled.

“Steve?”

The voice is far away, but getting closer. It’s well known and safe.

“Steve?! Where are you?”

“I’m here. Buck, over here, I can’t…” He sits up a little, spotting a familiar figure moving towards him.

“Steve! Thank fuck. Are you okay? Where are you hurt?” Bucky hurries to his side, removing the rubble with his left arm. Thank Tony for that one.

“I’m okay, I think. Nothing too bad.” Steve gets to his feet a little unsteadily and Bucky reaches to support him. Steve looks him over; there is blood on his uniform, but no obvious injuries. “You? The others?”

“I’m fine. I was barely within range of the explosion. Nat’s arm is broken, but she’s okay otherwise. She’s looking for Clint.” Bucky says, helping Steve away from the damaged area. “Back up’s on the way. S.H.I.E.L.D. will be here an minute.”

And S.H.I.E.L.D. does show up, quickly organizing a very efficient search of the ruins. Agent Coulson makes sure that every inch of the area is thoroughly searched. No one is surprised that Phil is an active part of the search, even if he no longer is an active field agent. They all care for Clint, but Phil has known him longer than anyone and everybody but Clint knows just how much the archer means to him.

The find several HYDRA soldiers in varying states of alive, but no signs of Clint Barton. No matter how long they search, no matter how many times they go through the battle to find his last known location. That doesn’t mean that they stop.

“Steve…” It’s dark by now, must have been for a few hours. They brought lights, but it’s still hard to see. He doesn’t stop.

“Steve!” Bucky grabs his arms, forcing him to straighten and look him in the eyes. “It’s… He’s not here…”

“He is somewhere. We have to look, we have to find him.”

“Steve… We have to stop… You have to stop…”

“No! No, he’s somewhere and he is hurt and waiting for us. We have to find him. This isn’t gonna happen again. I won’t let it. I won’t stop this time, I can’t! I have to find him!” He is shouting, but he doesn’t care. This is not happening again. It can’t. They have to keep looking.

“Steve…” Bucky’s voice is soft. “We have to stop. He’s not here.”

“He has to be Buck! He has to. We have to find him, I can’t… I can’t…” He is not shouting anymore, he is shaking. Bucky puts his arms around Steve and holds him close. “We’ll keep looking Steve, I promise. We’ll find him. But not here. He’s not here.”

Steve’s protests gets cut short when Agent Coulson comes up to them. “The car is ready to take you back to base now.”

“We have to keep looking!” Steve says. Coulson looks at him, his voice firm and calm. “We will. But you are hurt and exhausted. You are no help to the search like this.”

Buck doesn’t let Steve answer, just steers him to the car and places him in the backseat before getting in himself. Natasha is there too, her arm in a sling and her face covered in dust.

When they get back to the base, Tony is there. Steve has no idea who called him or how he got permission to be there and he does not have the energy to care. He lets them lead him to the medical facilities and stays still while the doctors go over his injuries. Mild concussion, bruises and a hairline fracture on his right femur. Apparently he is lucky it didn’t get worse when he helped with the search. He is surprised when they put bandages on his hands, until he sees that he has worked his fingers bloody while digging through the rubble.

They give them a private room. It’s mostly for Steve, since Bucky only had a few bruises and didn’t need medical attention. Tony lies down in the bed next to him, careful not to move his hurt leg when he wraps himself around Steve. Bucky sits down next to the bed, taking Steve’s left hand in his right. They gave Steve a sedative for the pain and having both of his loves so close helps a little. Steve slowly drifts of.

Tony is still there when he wakes up again, but Bucky is gone. For a second, Steve does not remember why he is in the medical facilities with Tony, but then everything returns and he sucks in a sharp breath. The sound or the movement wakes up Tony, if he was ever really asleep, and he sits up in the bed a little.

“Stevie?”

“I’m… I have to…” Steve sits up in the bed, trying to leave, but Tony places a hand on his chest and pushes him back. While Tony is in no way stronger than Steve, he does have leverage over the soldier that has nothing to do with physical strength. Steve lies back down. “Clint…”

“I know.” Tony keeps his hand on Steve’s chest, leaning a little over him so he can look into Steve’s eyes. “We’ll go help in a moment. But first I need you to breathe for me.”

Steve pauses, only then realizing that he breathing is short and sharp. Closing his eyes, he focuses on Tony’s hand on his chest and tries to take a deep breath. It works after a few attempts.

When his breathing is even again, Tony kisses Steve gently and removes his hand. “Thank you baby. I know you are worried, but you need to keep breathing for me, okay?”

Steve opens his eyes, looking into Tony’s. It helps. He is still worried and needs to do something, to look, to help, but he can breathe again.

They find Bucky in the situation room with Natasha and Agent Coulson. Nat’s arm is in a new sling and she has changed clothes since the mission. Coulson’s normally immaculate suit is wrinkled and dirty, still covered in dust from the rubble. While Nat looks like she had at least a little sleep, it’s clear that Coulson has had nothing of the kind.

They start with everything they already know. The mission was carefully planned and almost a success when the explosion went off. It has surprised everyone. They didn’t know there had been anything of the kind in the base. It was probably a last resort to prevent S.H.I.E.L.D. from getting any useful information from the base.

Natasha goes to interrogate the surviving HYDRA soldiers while the rest of them try to figure out where to look. They send a team back to the HYDRA base with dogs to look for anything that might help. Tony stays, hovering close to Steve and Bucky. After a while, Bruce shows up too, keeping Natasha company when she isn’t talking to the prisoners. When Bruce and Tony meet it takes all of five minutes before they are talking a language they claim is English but that no ones else can understand a word of.

It takes too long. Even a single day is too long and after a week, they are nowhere closer to finding Clint. The only reason Steve is not falling apart is Tony. It surprises him how much being close to his sub helps with the anxiety of knowing that Clint is held captive somewhere and they don’t know how to find him yet. Bucky helps too, but Bucky is as much a part of the team as Steve is and he is worried too. Tony is the only one keeping them together.

With Tony taking care of Steve and Bruce looking out for Natasha, it falls to Bucky to at least try to make Phil get some sleep. That turns out to be the hardest chore of all and more than once leads to Bucky locking Coulson in one of the private rooms at the medical facility, refusing to open the door before the agent has gotten some sleep. Steve mostly sleeps when Tony goes to him and complains of nightmares. It’s easier when any of them just pass out in the chair they were working from.

“Who makes Barton’s hearing aids?”

It’s been eight and a half day. Steve is looking at the same map of the area for the hundredth time, hoping to spot something new. Bucky and Agent Coulson are looking at surveillance tapes from the area, doing the same. Natasha is eating lunch next to Bruce, taking a few minutes to catch her breath before going back to the very uncooperative prisoners.

“S.H.I.E.L.D. does. We don’t allow outside tech on missions if we can avoid it. Why?” Coulson asks, looking up from the screen. Mostly, Tony has been quiet while they have been working, not wanting to interfere.

“Do you have schematics?” Tony asks, making Bruce look up curiously. “Are you thinking about –“

“It could work, couldn’t it?”

“If he is still wearing them, maybe…”

Bruce gets up and walks with Tony to the computer where Coulson has found some files on Clint’s hearing aid.

“What are you thinking Tony?” Bucky asks, getting up from his chair.

“The hearing aid doubles as a communicator, right? If we can match the frequency, maybe we can get a signal to follow.” Tony says, still looking at the screen.

“We’ve tried that, it’s too far away.” Coulson says, his hoarse voice betraying how tired he is.

“You tried. I haven’t.” Tony says, pointing to something on the screen that makes Bruce nod and start taking notes.

“Can you do it?” Steve asks, walking up to them. “Tony… Please…” His voice is low and pleading. They have nothing. They have nothing and it’s so much like last time that he can barely stand being more than a few feet from Bucky without being unable to breathe.

“Maybe. I’ll try. I’ll do everything I can Steve.” Tony says, looking at Steve with soft, worried eyes.

And he does. Him and Bruce get their own office where they go over the schematics and try to find a way to track the signal from the hearing aid. It takes time to boost the signal and then more time to narrow the area down when they get a connection.

“And you’re sure?”

It’s a new map this time, showing a large empty area with a few abandoned farmhouses. One of the farmhouses is highlighted. Everybody is gathered around the table. Tony nods. “This is where the signal is coming from. The hearing aid is here. The signal hasn’t moved since we found it.”

“They might have left it behind.” Bucky says. No one mentions that they might have left Clint behind because he is no longer of use to them. No one wants to think about that.

“Doesn’t matter. It’s our best lead. Suit up, we’re going.” Steve says, leaning over the table.

“No.” Agent Coulson looks at them, raising a hand to silence them as everyone moves to speak up at once. “No. We are in no condition to go anywhere and we need to plan this so there are no more surprises. The signal isn’t moving, so we don’t have to chase it. Everybody go get a good nights sleep, we’ll leave tomorrow.”

Steve opens his mouth to argue, but Tony puts a gentle hand on his arm. And Steve knows they are right. He hates the idea of leaving Clint in the hands of HYDRA for another second, but going there when the entire team is sleep deprived would do more harm than good. So he nods and goes with Bucky and Tony to sleep in one of the private rooms.

Finding the farmhouse is no problem with the signal. Tony showed them how to track it before they left. He and Bruce stayed at the base. The rest of them go to get Clint. No one tried to stop Coulson from going back to active duty on this mission, no one at S.H.I.E.L.D. is that stupid.

Resistance on the outside is minimal and Bucky picks most of them off before they know what hit them. At least the presence of HYDRA soldiers proves that they have the right place. Getting inside is a little more difficult, but hitting the people who might have taken Clint makes Steve feel a lot better. They avoid raising the alarm and move into the farmhouse. Inside, it’s nothing like a farmhouse. It’s all slick steel and reinforced doors and an elevator leading deep into the ground.

They find a key card on one of the dead guards and start moving down to the level where the signal comes from. Letting Natasha and Bucky take point means that they get off the elevator and through the halls of the base without anybody knowing before it’s too late.

“You have become a disappointment to me Barton. I really thought you wanted to be good.”

Steve lifts his hand, stopping the others when he hears the voice. A door in front of them is partly open and Steve moves closer without making a sound. Inside he sees a man sitting in a chair by a small table. In one hand he holds a leash that goes to the floor, where Clint is curled up, hiding his face in his arms. His uniform is ripped and broken and does nothing to hide the tight collar around his throat.

“I know you can be good. I have seen it. And I am really not asking much. So, tell me!”

It’s a command. Steve recognizes the tone, he has used it himself, but never like this. Never with a sub cowering on the floor in such obvious despair, because that is wrong! That the sub is Clint only makes him want to burn the place to the ground.

Tearing his eyes from the scene in the middle of the room, he spots two guards by the door in the other side of the room and two by the door he is looking through. Pulling back a little, he signs the hostile positions to his team. Having Clint being partially deaf has meant that all of them have tried to learn at least a little ASL, which has proven useful on missions several times.

They moves as one on his command, Bucky and Coulson taking out the two guards on the furthest side of the room, while Steve and Natasha take the two by the door.

“So, you’ve come for your broken toy…” The man stands up from the chair, pulling a little on the leash, making Clint follow the movement so he has to stand on his knees not to be choked by the collar.

“Clint is neither broken nor a toy.” Coulson says calmly before shooting the man between the eyes. He might no longer be an active in the field, but that never stopped him from being one of the best agents S.H.I.E.L.D. has ever had.

Phil is on the ground next to Clint and catches him before he falls and Steve is right behind while Natasha and Bucky secure the room. “Easy Clint. I’ve got you. You’re going to be okay. Look at me.” Phil’s voice is softer than Steve has ever heard it before, but Clint still whimpers and tries to hide his face. Even from a distance Steve can see that he is shaking.

“You’re not broken.” Phil holds Clint close, one hand resting on the bare skin of his shoulder, the other trying to open the collar. Phil is shaking too, but it seems to be with barely contained rage. “You did good, I know you did. You are safe now.”

At first Steve thinks it's the general horror of the situation that makes Phil angry, but then he sees the padlock on the collar, making it impossible for Clint to take it off. Searching the dead man reveals a small key and Steve hurries to get the collar off. Phil gently rubs Clint's neck over the red marks. Clint lets out a small sound of relief and finally, carefully opens his eyes to look at them.

"P... Phil?" His voice is hoarse and broken, like he's been screaming more than talking since he disappeared. He grabs Phil's arm, almost as if he's afraid it's not real.

"I'm here." Phil says gently, looking softly at Clint. "You're okay. We're going to take you home now. It's over. You did good."

"You... You came... I thought... I... I'm sorry... I'm sorry I was bad... I failed... I..." Clint whispers, his grip on Phil tightening as he looks away again.

"No. No, no, hey, shh... You didn't fail, you hear me? You did good! You fought them. You did good Clint." Phil pulls Clint closer, holding him firmly. Clint whimpers a little and hides his face in Phil's shoulder.

Steve gets up slowly and leaves Phil to take care of Clint. Bucky nods quietly when Steve looks at him and Steve calls the back up. With Clint as a hostage, they couldn't risk more than a small team, but now he is safe noting will stop them from leveling the base. It takes less than an hour to clear the base if HYDRA soldiers and collect what data has not yet been destroyed. Steve and his team follow from the sideline, not wanting to leave Clint.

When they are ready to go, Phil helps Clint to his feet but when Clint tries to stand, he lets out a pained sound and has to grab Phil to keep from falling. Steve hurries over and takes his arm, so Clint can be supported between the two of them and avoids putting weight on whatever is hurting him. They bring Clint to the plane and take off as soon as the team is ready, leaving the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents to clean up the area.

Phil and Steve place Clint in one of the chairs in the back. While Steve kneels down to check him for injuries, Phil sits down next to the archer and takes his hand. "You should get some sleep..."

Clint shakes his heads firmly, keeping his eyes open. "Can't... Can't sleep... The sounds... Lights..."

Looking up, Steve sees the pained expression on Phil's face, even if it doesn't reach his voice. "You are safe now. They can't hurt you anymore. You need rest."

Clint shakes his head again. He looks exhausted and scared and still not really aware of what happened. Even without whatever they did to him, he must be well on his way to withdrawal by now.

"Clint." Phil's voice is steady and commanding, forcing Clint to meet his eyes. "You need rest. You need to sleep."

"Phil... Please..."

"Close your eyes and go to sleep Clint." Phil says. It's a gentle command, but it is a command. Clint blinks once, then closes his eyes and let's out a small sigh. His head drops and Phil guides him down so it's resting in the agent's lap. Phil runs his fingers through Clint's hair, looking at him with worried eyes. "What have they done to you Clint?"


	4. Returning

“You have become a disappointment to me Barton. I really thought you wanted to be good.”

The man is angry. He wants names. He has asked several times now. Clint bites his tongue and tastes blood. They are not coming for him. They have left him. He is bad and he failed them. They must have suspected that he would fail them at some point. He did. Even if they do not come for him, he will not betray them.

“I know you can be good. I have seen it. And I am really not asking much. So, tell me!”

The command is strong. It seems like they are getting stronger. Maybe he is getting weaker. Clint wants to give up. It would be so easy to give in to the command, to obey, to be good. It would be so easy. He is tired and hurting and weak. If they would just let him sleep.

He can’t sleep. It feels like he will never sleep again. Clint curls up on himself a little more. He can’t block out the voice completely, but he can avoid looking at the man. It only helps a little. It’s not going to be enough. He is so tired.

There is a sound of guns. The guards collapse. Someone else has entered, someone not HYDRA.

"So, you’ve come for your broken toy…" The man says, a sneer in his voice. Clint is yanked to his knees by the leash. It hurts, like everything else. His knees on the hard floor is an easy pain to understand. It’s bearable, but it’s hard to stay like that when he is shaking so much. He can’t remember when it started, but it was before they got him from the cell he thinks.

“Clint is neither broken nor a toy.” The voice is familiar, but it’s hard to focus. Suddenly the man is falling and the leash is no longer holding Clint up. Before he hits the ground, someone puts their arms around him, catching him.

“Easy Clint. I’ve got you. You’re going to be okay. Look at me.” The voice is familiar, but so is the command. He can’t stop the sound he makes, fighting commands has become physically painful by now, but he can hide his face and close his eyes.

“You’re not broken. You did good, I know you did. You are safe now.” The arms hold him tight. There is a hand on his shoulder and one on the collar. The man put the collar on him, but the voice is different. The voice is kind. It’s… Someone he knows. Someone he trusts. The words are warm against his skin.

Then the collar is gone and he can breathe freely for the first time in days. Someone is rubbing his neck, making the pain go away and Clint gasps slightly. It takes effort to open his eyes, but not to recognize the person holding him.

“P… Phil?” It’s hard to talk after keeping quiet for so long. His jaw feels stiff and sore, but the pain no longer matters. He grabs Phil’s arm. He needs to keep Phil close, he needs him to stay. Clint is not sure what will happen if Phil leaves, he just knows that he can’t bear it.

“I’m here. You’re okay. We’re going to take you home now. It’s over. You did good.” His voice is kind, making the pain withdraw a little, but it’s wrong. He failed them and they should have left him, but they didn’t. He needs to tell them, Phil needs to know. "You... You came... I thought... I... I'm sorry... I'm sorry I was bad... I failed... I..." His voice fails him and he has to look away again. If Phil is going to leave him, Clint can’t look at him when it happens. He grabs Phil tighter, because he is still greedy and he needs Phil to stay, even if it is wrong.

"No. No, no, hey, shh... You didn't fail, you hear me? You did good! You fought them. You did good Clint." Phil doesn’t leave. He just holds Clint closer. The words feel soft and warm against Clint’s skin and he hides his face in Phil’s shoulder, whimpering softly. He is still exhausted and in pain and scared, but Phil is finally, finally holding him. Phil is going to take care of him and make everything okay again.

“You were so strong Clint, holding on until we could find you. I’m sorry it took so long, but we’re here now. We are going to take you home. It’s over now. You don’t have to be strong anymore, it’s over…” Phil’s voice is so close Clint can feel the agent’s breath on his skin. The words wrap around him, making it easier to forget the pain.

Something is happening around them, people talking and moving, but Phil doesn’t pay attention to it, so Clint doesn’t either. Phil will tell him if he needs to do anything. It’s a relief and it’s the best Clint has felt in a long time. He wants to sleep, but every time he closes his eyes too long, he feels the sounds and lights, knows they are just about to begin and he has to open his eyes again. He can’t take more sound. He can’t fight for much longer.

Then Phil pulls back a little and Clint grabs him harder. He _needs_ Phil to stay.

“It’s okay. We’re just going to the plane so we can get back home. Come on.” Phil gets to his feet, pulling Clint with him. For a moment, he is standing, but then he puts weight on the wrong foot and pain shoots up his leg. He doesn’t scream, not really, but it’s close and he has to grab Phil to keep from falling.

Someone grabs his other arm and steadies him. It takes too long before he recognizes Steve, but leaning on him means he can avoid using his injured leg. They guide him out of the base and into a plane, where he is sat down in a chair. Phil sits down next to him and takes his hand. "You should get some sleep..."

Sleep doesn’t exist anymore. Closing his eyes means sounds and lights and pain. He shakes his head, but they won’t understand. He has to explain, even if it’s still hard to speak. He has to be good and tell them. "Can't... Can't sleep... The sounds... Lights..."

Phil is rubbing his hand. It feels good. "You are safe now. They can't hurt you anymore. You need rest." Phil wants to help, Clint knows that, but they don’t understand. They can’t understand. He shakes his head again, looking down. He can’t sleep anymore.

“Clint. You need rest. You need to sleep.” It’s barely a command, but it makes him look up much faster than anything the man did. Phil says that they are going home and that Clint is safe now. That there will be no sounds, no lights. He wants to believe it so much. He is so tired. He wants to sleep, but he is not sure he can. Not on his own.

“Phil…” It’s so hard to talk, impossible to find the words, to explain. He can’t do this on his own anymore. He is too scared. He needs help. He needs Phil to understand. “Please…”

“Close your eyes and go to sleep Clint.” It’s a command. Phil understands. Phil always knows what to do, how to help him. Clint’s entire body is heavy and his thoughts are slowing down. It’s a command and he is obeying. He can’t fight anymore, doesn’t have to fight Phil. He is safe with him. Phil will take care of him. He lets out a small sigh, finally letting go of his resistance.

Falling asleep is as easy as dying.

Waking up is much harder. Staying awake is impossible. Someone is always with him when he opens his eyes. Phil, Steve, Bucky, Natasha. Sometimes it’s the man. Mostly they hold his hand. Sometimes they hold him down.

Phil looks tired. There are dark marks under his eyes and stubble on his chin. Even on missions he always found time to shave. Clint has never seen him with a beard before. Phil’s left hand is holding Clint’s right while the other caresses his arm. It feels wonderful. It’s almost enough to make Clint drop right there, but he can’t let himself. Phil is there for a reason, for a debriefing or information or to fire him. He needs to focus.

They are in a private room at the medial facilities. The room is filled with soft light and the sounds of medical equipment. There is an IV in his left arm, but he can barely feel it. Moving is hard, but luckily it doesn’t take much for Phil to look up.

“Hey…” Phil is smiling. He still looks tired, but it’s better when he smiles.

“What… What do you need… From me Sir?” It’s still hard to talk. His throat hurts and his voice breaks. Phil must be disappointed because he stops smiling.

“I… Clint, I’m not here because I need anything… I’m here to make sure you are okay, because I worry about you… I’m not working, I’m here as… As a friend…” Phil says gently, moving his hand from Clint’ arm to his hair. Clint wants nothing more than to close his eyes and let go, but he can’t. Phil must be there for a reason. If he doesn’t need anything from Clint, it must be because it’s over.

“So… I’m fired…” Clint says quietly. Phil looks surprised. “What? No, of course not. Why would you think that?”

“Because I… I failed… I was captured… I told him… I let him command me…”

“Stop that!” It’s so firm that it’s almost a command. “You didn’t fail. You… They had video surveillance. I saw… I saw what they did to you Clint… I know what they did and you fought them every step of the way. What you did was incredible.”

Clint feels lightheaded and has to close his eyes when his vision begins to blur. When he opens them again, Phil looks worried. “You’re drifting a little. Do you need to go under?” He asks.

“I can manage.” Clint says. It’s the truth. It’s not pleasant, but he can make it work. He always has before.

“You don’t have to.” Phil says, his voice unbelievably kind and his hand resting gently on Clint’s cheek. It feels so much more intimate than anything that has ever happened before and Clint closes his eyes, leaning into the touch. He needs…

“I’m fine.” He says, pulling away from Phil’s hand. He does not deserve kindness. He failed. “I’m just tired.”

Phil doesn’t answer and Clint closes his eyes. When he drifts of, it’s just sleep. It’s fine.

He wakes up later and Phil is gone. He is relieved and immensely disappointed. Natasha is sitting on the bed next to him, playing with his hair.

“Hey you…” She says with a smile.

“Hi…” Clint sits up a little. Natasha helps him and gives him a glass of water. “Easy, you’re still weak.”

“How bad is it?” Clint asks, smiling a little strained.

“Aside from the torture? Bruised ribs, a strained ankle and a mild concussion. Most of it has started healing now that you are actually getting treatment. You should be able to go home soon, if someone is there to take care of you.” Natasha says, looking at him with those clever green eyes. “We were worried about you. I’m glad you’re back.”

“I… I’m glad you found me…” Clint looks down at his hands. He had stopped thinking they would come for him.

“You can thank Tony for that when you get better.” She smiles. “He was the one who actually found you.”

“You let him help?” He asks, surprised. It’s not even that Tony is a sub like him, it’s that Tony is not an agent. S.H.I.E.L.D. is not really big on letting civilians into the base.

“Someone had to take care of Steve, so he was here. Seems he is as smart at they claim.” She smiles. “I’m sure he’ll tell you all about it when he gets the chance.”

Clint smiles. He has listened to Tony’s rants a few times and knows how much he loves to talk about what he makes. Clint might not understand half of it, but he enjoys listening anyway.

“Clint?”

The voice seems surprisingly far away and it takes a moment for him to focus on Natasha. She looks worried and takes his hand gently. “You are starting to get scattered. Do you want me to help you?”

“I… I’m fine… I can manage…” He says, looking at her hand and not her face.

“That’s all you will ever let yourself have, isn’t it? Just enough to get by but nowhere near what you really need.” Natasha says. He has no answer and he is saved from making one up when the doctor comes in to see him.

They watch him for the rest of the day and then let him go home. Tony picks him up and has his chauffeur drive them back to Clint’s apartment. Clint only leans a little on Tony as they walk from the car and listens quietly to Tony talk about how they used the signal from his hearing aid to track him down.

Tony helps him to the sofa before changing the subject. “Not that I don’t love this bonding time, but who do you want me to call?”

“You don’t need to call anyone. I’m fine.” Clint says, resting his still sore foot on the coffee table.

“Yeah, no, you’re definitely not okay. I’ve been there, remember? I know what it looks like when you’re hitting withdrawal. You need someone. It’s usually Natasha, right?” Tony says, pulling out his phone.

“Natasha has Bruce now.” Clint says, a little more bitter than he wants to.

“Bruce doesn’t mind. He knows how much you mean to her.” Tony pauses, sitting down on the table in front of Clint. “But you do, don’t you? Why? You told me you don’t want to be with Nat.”

“I don’t. I… I don’t deserve her attention. She has Bruce now, he is good for her in a way I never was. It’s better if I’m alone. That’s what I deserve.” Clint says. It looks like Tony wants to say something, but is interrupted when his phone rings. Clint can see the caller-ID from the couch.

“Steve. You should answer. You know how he gets.” He says. Tony looks at the screen for a moment, but then ignores the call and look at Clint. “Yes. I know exactly how he gets. And I know why. You know too. You must remember. You were there when Bucky disappeared. What makes you think it was any different this time?”

Clint opens his mouth to say that it’s different because he is not involved with any of the team, but the words die in his throat. He remembers. He remembers the endless days of searching, the frayed nerves and constant worry. He remembers Steve getting paler and more haunted by the day. He remembers the look in Steve’s eyes when S.H.I.E.L.D. informed them that they would stop searching. He remembers feeling like he lost a part of himself when they declared Bucky KIA.

He closes his mouth and looks away.

“I thought so.” Tony says calmly. “This time, I was there. I was the one trying to keep them from falling apart while looking for you. I was there to se Steve look at the same maps for hours, going through the mission in his head, trying to figure out how _he_ failed _you_. I was there to see Bucky yelling at everyone how even tried to mention that you might not be alive because there were no traces of you. I was there to see Natasha interrogate the prisoners for hours to get just the smallest clue. And I was there every time Coulson collapsed on the floor because he would not sleep until you got back. So maybe it’s not about what you deserve, it’s about what they deserve! They did not get you back so you could destroy yourself like this.”

Clint has no words. He is used to Tony’s ranting by now, but they are usually about technology or some idiot at Stark Industries, never about him or his team.

“So, if it’s for their sake and not yours… What do you need?” Tony asks.

Clint hesitates, but he knows the answer. He has always known.

“Phil…”

“Good. So we get him.” Tony smiles, like Clint has not just revealed his biggest secret. When his phone rings again, he pick up. “Yes Steve, I’m fine. I’m still at Clint’s apartment. Can you call Agent and make him meet us here? I’ll have Happy drive me home when he arrives. Thanks baby. See ya.” Tony hangs up, putting the phone away. Clint is not really sure Steve got to say a single word in that conversation.

“So, you like Agent. Why is that not already a thing? He obviously likes you.” Tony continues.

“He’s… He is too good for me. I don’t deserve him. And he doesn’t deserve to be left with someone like me.” Clint says quietly. He rarely talks like this. Natasha will ascribe it to depression from withdrawal and he mostly let her think so. Tony, on the other hand, just nods.

“I understand. I’ve been there too. Steve and Bucky are the same for me. They are both so amazing. When I first met them, I wouldn’t let Bucky help me because I was sure he had some ulterior motives, like blackmail or something. Luckily they are both incredible stubborn and would not let me get away with that. I know it doesn’t really help telling you that you are wrong, even if you are, or that you do deserve him, even if you do. But think of it this way: shouldn’t it be his choice? I mean, if he is so much better than you, doesn’t it stand to reason that he makes better decisions?” Tony smiles and Clint… Clint can’t help but smile too.

“Genius, huh?”

“’s what they call me.” Tony says with a shrug. Clint has never seen anyone look so smug in his life. He doesn’t get to address it because there is a knock on the door. Tony gets up to open and Clint is left to figure out what to do when the man he has been in love with for years comes through the door to help him with something he has always kept very private.

He hears Tony voice before they come into the room. “He needs you more than he needs me right now. I’ll leave when I’ve said goodbye.”

They enter the room and Phil looks good. He has shaved and gotten a clean suit. Even if he still looks a little tired, he looks ready to fight an invading army. As always.

“Hi Clint.” Phil says gently, kneeling in front of the archer. “Are you okay?”

“I…” _I’m fine. I’ll manage. I can get by on my own_. “No… I… I need help…”

“Okay. I’ll help. Whatever you need.” Phil says smiling at him.

Tony has stayed by the door. “I guess that’ my cue to leave. I’ll see you later. Remember what I said Clint.”

“Thank you Tony.” Clint smiles as he watches the engineer leave. Then he slowly turns back to Phil.

“What can I do?” The agent asks.

“I… I think I’m falling apart… I… I need…” Why is it so hard to put into words? He can’t explain, but he knows that he wants, _needs_ something.

“It’s okay. I understand.” Phil stands up, removing his jacket and shirt, before sitting down on the couch next to Clint. “Take your shirt off.”

It might be a command. Somehow, Clint is no longer sure, but he does it anyway. He knows this part. Physical contact helps, skin to skin. Phil pulls him closer and holds him, Clint’s back to his chest, Phil’s arm around him.

“I know you can fight me Clint. I’ve seen how strong you are. I’m asking you not to. I want to help, do you understand?” he says. Clint nods. He trusts Phil more than anything. Phil was always the one to make sure they were safe in the field.

“Good. You are doing good Clint. You’ve had to be strong for a long time, but I’m here now. Let me take over. Just let go. I’ll be here for as long as you need.”

There is a hand in his hair and in an instant he is back with the man.

_“I know you want to be good…”_

“Hey, no no, easy. You’re safe, you are safe Clint. You are home and you are safe.” An arm tightens around his chest, holding him close. The voice is familiar and trusted, nothing like the man. “No one is going to hurt you. I’ll protect you, I promise. I’ll keep you safe.”

There is still a hand in his hair, but it’s not the man. It’s gentle and soft and soothing. It demands nothing of him, no answers, no information. It’s familiar and well-known, the touch, the smell, the voice, the heartbeat behind him. He takes a deep breath and lets his head fall back to Phil’s shoulder. “’m okay…”

“No, you’re not. But we’ll get you there.” Phil says softly, moving his hand from Clint’s hair to his neck. The calloused fingertips are ghosting over his pulse point and the entire world seems to tilt. It feels wonderful and Clint can’t stop a faint moan from escaping his lips.

“There we go…” Phil is smiling, his fingers still caressing Clint’s neck. “Just relax… Let go and let me carry the burden for a while. You don’t have to do anything. I’m here, I’ll take care of you. Just let go…”

The room is getting blurry and Clint’s mind is fuzzy. The world seems far away, but that’s okay. Nothing is expected of him, he doesn’t have to think. Phil will take care of him.

At some point he must have closed his eyes, but he can’t remember. It doesn’t really matter. The darkness enveloping him is warm and soft, safer than anything he has ever known.

Waking up seems to take a very long time. He is dimly aware of the arms around him, the steady breathing behind him. He feels safe and warm, even though he can feel the cool air on the bare skin of his arms.

When he finally opens his eyes, he sees that the apartment is dark. He must have been under for a long time, longer than he normally is with Natasha. He takes a deep breath and ascribes it to the kidnapping and torture and general horrible week and not the fact that it’s Phil’s arms around him. He almost believes it.

“You back among the living?” The voice is so close that the breath brushes his face.

“Yeah, I think so… Sorry it took so long, you should have pulled me back up…” Clint sits up, turning to look at Phil. The agent looks at him with an easy smile, but there is something else in the eyes. “You should know by now that I am a very patient man.”

“Um… I…” Clint looks away, getting to his feet a little unsteadily. “You… You don’t have to stay any longer… Thank you… I… I’ll be fine on my own now…”

“Going under once is not enough to make you fine.” Phil says, getting up and walking over to Clint. “You still need attention. I can stay.”

“No, it’s fine… I’m fine…” Clint says, not looking at Phil.

“You are not fine. You told me you needed help. You still do. I want to stay. I want to help. Why won’t you let me?” Phil asks, standing in front of Clint. His voice has a tone that is almost a command, but it’s so very gentle.

“Because…” He doesn’t tell them. Whenever he tried to talk to Natasha about it, she would get worried and he would stop. Better to handle it on his own. He never told Phil. He has gotten good at hiding the truth, he really has, but it doesn’t work this time. Maybe it’s because of the kidnapping. Maybe it’s because it’s Phil. “Because if you stay I’ll want more from you and I don’t deserve it. I’m greedy and bad and I don’t deserve to get anything. You should leave before I ask more of you.”

“Clint…” Phil gently takes his hands. “You are not bad. It’s not greedy to want what you need. You have barely asked me anything while I’ve been here. I want to help you.”

“No, you can’t… I… I can’t let… I’ll want so much more…” Clint keeps his eyes on the floor, like that might help.

“If you ask me for too much or for anything I’m not willing to give, I’ll tell you. Until that happens, you can ask anything of me.” Phil says calmly, like it’s that simple.

The realization is a physical, palpable thing, making him sway so much that Phil grabs his arms instead of his hands. The relief makes his knees buckle and Phil is the only thing keeping him up. If he could just… If Phil could tell him… Phil would know, he would stop before it got too much. Before he got unreasonable.

“P… Promise me… Please…” His voice is shaking, but he has to be sure.

“I promise. If and when you go too far, I’ll tell you.” Phil says firmly, almost making it a command to himself.

When Clint starts crying, Phil eases both of them to the floor and Clint scrambles closer so he’s basically in the agents lap. Phil will tell him if it’s wrong and he doesn’t. He just holds Clint while he is crying and shaking.

It seems to go on for a long time and when it’s over, Clint is just leaning on Phil, lax and pleasantly empty. His mind is blank and quiet.

He doesn’t notice that they are moving until he tries to put support on his bad foot and the pain brings him back. Strong arms wrap around him, supporting him and removing the pain from his foot. “Easy. Lean on me. There you go, let me take the weight. You don’t have to come back, you can drift as much as you want. I’ve got you.”

Without the pain, it’s easy to let go.

Clint wakes up in his bed, all but wrapped around Phil like a needy octopus. It’s a small bed, so it’s probably the only way the two men can be there, but it still seems like too much. And yet… Phil promised he would say if it was too much. Opening his eyes, Clint sees that Phil is still sleep, looking more relaxed than Clint has ever seen. So, maybe it’s okay.

He doesn’t go back to sleep, he just watches Phil sleep. Clint rarely gets a chance to study his face like this at work and he is enjoying this opportunity. He is not really aware of how long it’s been when Phil opens his eyes and smiles.

Clint quickly looks away, pulling a little back. “Sorry…”

“Don’t be. I don’t mind. How do you feel?” Phil asks.

“I’m… Okay, I think… Hungry…” Clint says slowly. He’s still a bit of a mess, but he is definitely better than yesterday.

“No wonder.” Phil says, sitting up on the edge of the bed. “When was the last time you ate?”

“Uh… Hospital, maybe?” Clint wonders, sitting up in the bed.

Phil shakes his head with a small smile before holding a hand out. “Let me see your ankle.”

Clint holds out his leg and Phil takes it carefully. He checks the ankle and gently rubs the sore area. Clint lets out a little sigh and closes his eyes.

“It’s healing, but you should avoid using it too much for a few more days. At least this time I can be here and make sure you do as you are told.” Phil says.

Clint opens his eyes. “You… You don’t have to stay…”

“We went over this yesterday.” Phil says firmly, locking eyes with Clint. “I know you might not believe me, but I want to stay. I want to help you. I’m here for as long as you need me.”

It takes effort to look away, but Clint does it anyway.

“Do you need a word?” Phil asks, more patiently than Clint deserves. “A safe word that works for both of us? I know you can fight my commands, but I would prefer if you didn’t have to. And I will use it if I feel you go too far.”

“I… Yeah… I think… I think that would help…” Clint answers.

“Okay. What word did you use with Natasha?” Phil asks.

“Circus.” Clint says quietly. If he’s thinking about the circus, something is definitely wrong.

“Circus…” Phil repeats, his mouth forming a tight line. “Would you be okay with using that again?”

Clint nods. The word makes sense. It’s not something he would ever forget.

“Okay. So until one of us says ‘circus’, I’ll stay here and help you with everything you need.” Phil stands and looks seriously at Clint. “But saying the word will not make me leave, unless you want me to. It’s to make sure I stop and listen to you. If you say it and still want me to stay, we will figure it out. Do you understand?”

Clint nods again. It’s nothing new, he went through all of this with Natasha, but hearing it from Phil makes him feel a little calmer.

“Good.” Phil says, letting the seriousness disappear into a smile. “Then let’s get some food. Here, let me help you…”

Supported by Phil, Clint makes it to the couch and sits down. He watches Phil disappear into the kitchen. Alone, Clint takes a moment to collect himself. Wanting too much still seems dangerous, but he is slowly beginning to believe that Phil will tell him if he goes too far. So he can try.

When Phil gets back, Clint is sitting on the floor next to the couch. His injured foot is resting on a pillow and the other leg is pulled against his chest, so he can rest his head on his knee. Phil stops when he sees it.

“I… Is this okay? Can I….” Clint says, his eyes darting from Phil to the floor. This is new and different and he feels very insecure.

“Is it what you want?” Phil asks, putting the plates on the table.

Clint nods a little, still not meeting his eyes. “Yes…”

“Okay.” Phil sits down on the couch, next to where Clint is on the floor. “Then it’s okay. Do you want me to feed you too?”

Blushing, Clint hides his face behind his knee. He would never have asked because even if he wants it, it still feels a little embarrassing. But Phil offered.

“Please…” He says, finally looking at Phil.

“You’re doing fine Clint. Just relax, I’ve got you.” Phil says as he picks up a fork and holds it out to Clint.

They eat slowly, Phil alternating between feeding Clint and eating his own food. Clint doesn’t go under, not really, but he does fall into a soft headspace where he feels relaxed and safe. He eats and drinks what Phil gives him without thinking and stops feeling embarrassed almost at once. When the food is gone, Clint just rests his head on Phil’s knee while Phil pets his hair and caresses his neck, pulling Clint completely under.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter monday
> 
> Don't do anything stupid until I get back


	5. Healing

Phil quickly learns that when Clint goes under, he stays under. It’s been hours since they ate and aside from answering when Phil checks up on him, Clint hasn’t moved.

”Clint? How do you feel?” Phil asks again.

”’m good…” Comes the slurred answer.

”Do you want to stay where you are?” It’s better for a sub to come back on their own, but any dom can pull them up again if they need to.

”Please…” Clint mumbles into his knee.

Phil hums quietly and strokes Clint’s hair. The archer has always been very private about his designation, so it’s new for Phil to see him like this. He had only ever known Clint to be a sub when he was being trained to resist hostile commands and always at a distance. It never looked pleasant and Phil had wanted to follow Clint afterwards, to hold him and make sure he was okay, but he never did. Being a sub in a dom dominated place like S.H.I.E.L.D. and especially being the only sub field agent, Clint could never afford to show any weakness. Right now, Phil is wondering if he could have done more to help, because he is realizing that there is more to Clint’s reluctance to show his designation than just work.

Coming into the room and seeing Clint on the floor had made Phil’s heart skip a beat. He had wanted that for so long. Wanted to take care of Clint, to help him, to be with him. To be trusted with something as important and personal as this.

Happiness quickly gave way to worry and anger when he saw the look on Clint’s face, the way his eyes darted to the floor after barely meeting Phil’s and Phil stopped in his tracks.

Clint had expected this to be taken away from him. Something as simple as this and Clint didn’t believe he could have it. Phil’s heart was aching for him and he got a strong urge to find everyone who had been involved in breaking Clint down like this and beat them to a pulp.

“I… Is this okay? Can I….” Clint asked, still not meeting Phil’s eyes. _Of course it is_ Phil had wanted to shout, but had Clint looked so vulnerable and insecure. So scared that he was asking for more than he could get.

“Is it what you want?” Phil had asked instead. No matter how much Phil wanted this, he needed to be sure that Clint was doing it because he wanted to and not because he thought Phil did. The nod was almost too small to see and Clint’s voice was little more than a whisper. “Yes…”

“Okay.” Phil had sat down next to Clint, so close that his leg was touching Clint. “Then it’s okay. Do you want me to feed you?”

Clint hadn’t been looking at him because he was embarrassed and scared, almost as if he was asking for something strange or abnormal. Like this was too much. Phil had seen the unspoken want in his eyes, the need to be taken care of. Something so simple and it still made Clint blush when he nodded and finally admitted that he wanted it.

“Please…”

“You’re doing fine Clint. Just relax, I’ve got you.” Phil had reassured him, holding out the fork. Feeding Clint was easy. The embarrassment disappeared after a moment as Clint’s eyes became glassy and distant. At some point Clint had wrapped his arms around Phil’s leg, but Phil was pretty sure the archer hadn’t even noticed.

It was easy to pull Clint completely under when they were done eating, petting his hair and neck. The neck, Phil had learned, was the real trick. Whether consciously or not, Clint had come to associate it with his freedom after being put in a collar that hurt him. Phil’s caresses were the opposite of that, gentle and soft.

Clint looks so content and relaxed, resting his head on Phil’s knee. Sitting quietly like this is a nice change of pace from his normal life and Phil finds himself enjoying it. He does get some work done, reading a few rapports on his phone that he has been accumulating since Clint disappeared, but mostly he just listens to Clint’s slow breathing.

When his phone rings, he answers as quickly as possible, but Clint doesn’t react to the sound.

“Yes?” Even if Clint doesn’t seem disturbed, Phil keeps his voice quiet.

“Hi.” Steve’s voice is hesitant. “I’m… Tony said you stayed after he left. Are you…?”

“I’m still with Clint. He’s… We’re both going to be away from S.H.I.E.L.D. for a while. Agent Barnes will take over as sniper and agent Hill will fill the empty position. You will rapport to Director Fury while I’m gone.” Phil says. He has had a lot of time to plan while sitting on the couch. The team is better with Clint, but there is no way he is going back to active service in the foreseeable future.

“Oh… Yes sir… I’ll make sure that happens. I just… How is he?” Steve asks. Steve is an excellent team leader because he cares. His team is his family.

“Getting better… But it’ll take a while…”

“Okay… I… If you need anything, either of you, just ask… Anything… We’ll be there…” Steve says.

Phil smiles. “I know… Thank you Steve…” It’s a knife’s edge. Being their friend and their boss at the same time. He never calls them by first name at work and he doesn’t often see them outside of it, but this is private. It has to be. It’s Clint.

They hang up a moment later, after Phil has reminded Steve to inform director Fury of his leave of absence, and Phil goes back to watching Clint. He still hasn’t moved, like the world no longer matters to him. Like nothing could hurt him. After what happened, it makes Phil feel humble to know that Clint feels this safe with him.

It takes a few more hours before Clint finally moves, sitting up slowly and blinking in the dim light of the room. “Ugh… How long was it this time?”

“Several hours.” Phil says gently, moving his hand from Clint’s hair to let it rest on his shoulder. “How do you feel?”

“Like an idiot. I’m not… I don’t usually go under for that long…” Clint runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head.

“You go under like that because you need it. Don’t feel bad because of that.” Phil says. “But you should probably move a bit by now. You okay to come sit on the couch?”

Clint nods and gets to his feet a little shakily before collapsing into the couch next to Phil, stretching his legs.

“Are you hungry? I can make something for us.” Phil asks.

“You don’t have to take care of me like that. You’re not my dom.” Clint says, putting both feet on the couch and looking away.

 _I could be._ Phil doesn’t say it. Falling in love with one of his agents was never the plan, but after meeting Clint Barton there was really nothing he could do. “I know…” He says instead, getting to his feet. “But I am your friend and your ankle is still hurt, so I’ll make some dinner for us.”

He leaves before Clint can get a chance to answer. For a long while he just stands in the kitchen, leaning on the table. He can hear the TV from the living room.

In the end he makes sandwiches because it’s easy. Going back to the couch, they eat on the sofa watching some mindless TV program about houses. The silence isn’t directly uncomfortable, but it’s not relaxed either.

Phil takes the plates to the kitchen, but before he gets back to the couch, Clint stops him.

“Phil, would you… In… In the closet, there is a box with a collar…”

Phil holds his breath. After everything that happened… Phil saw the tapes, saw what the man did. Phil was the one to take the collar off Clint. Putting one on him now is the worst thing he can imagine.

He is already figuring out a way to decline without scaring Clint away when the archer continues: “Will you throw it away for me? I can’t… I don’t think I can ever wear one again…”

Letting out a relieved breath, Phil nods. “Of course. Of course, I’ll take care of that.”

He opens the closet and easily finds the box. It’s on a shelf next to Clint’s other sub things. There is nothing surprising, really. The collar, a single flogger and several different ropes. Phil takes the box and looks inside. The collar is black leather, well worn and soft, with a clasp instead of a lock. A nice collar, one Phil might have picked himself if he ever had a permanent sub. Now he thinks he might never want to put a collar on anyone.

He makes sure Clint doesn’t see the box when he takes it out and throws it away. When he sits down on the couch next to Clint, they both seem to breathe a little easier.

“I must seem like a terrible sub…” Clint says quietly after a while.

“Why do you say that?” Phil asks carefully.

“I can’t wear a collar, but I can resist commands. I work in a place filled with doms and regularly take orders from them. What kind of sub submits at work but not at home?” Clint says, resting his head on the back of the couch.

“Most subs work in places where they have to take orders. Wearing a collar or obeying commands is not necessary to be a good sub. From what Barnes and Rogers say, your friend Stark never does either.” Phil says.

Clint laughs quietly. “Tony is not really a normal sub. Steve and Bucky weren’t a normal couple, even before he came along. Tony doesn’t care about being good, he wants freedom. Bucky and Steve accepts that, they like that. I… I want to be good… I want to submit, but I… I’m not sure I can anymore… I’m broken…”

“Clint, your not broken…” Phil gently takes his hands. “You can fight commands because you have to, but you have submitted to me. You have been good for me. After what happened to you, it’s no wonder if you have a hard time letting go of the control, but it’s only been days and you are still hurting a lot. You need to give yourself time to heal.”

“Will you… Command me… Please?” Clint asks, looking up with shiny, earnest eyes.

“Clint, you don’t… You don’t need to prove anything…” Phil says softly.

“I need… I need to know that I can still be good… Please…” It’s barely more than a whisper.

“You are good…” Phil squeezes his hands firmly before letting go. “But if you need this, I will help you.”

It’s always been easy for him to find the voice, to give commands. It’s one of the reasons he is so good at his jobs. Still, it’s different with Clint. It’s different because it’s private and he has never tried to dominate Clint before.

“Go to your knees.”

There is a moment’s hesitation, then Clint slips off the couch and to the floor.

“Look at me Clint.”

The hesitation is longer this time, but then he looks up. Phil puts a hand on his shoulder. “I’m not him. I will never do what he did to you. You can stop this if you want to.”

“I… I Know…” Clint’s eyes are so trusting and vulnerable that Phil’s hearth skips a beat. “I trust you more than anything…”

“I’ll take good care of you.” Phil promises when he is sure his voice won’t betray his feelings. “But I need you to promise me something. I need you to promise me you will tell me what you need, even if you feel it’s greedy. Let me be the judge of that. Promise to tell me what you need, what you want. Can you do that?” It’s not a command. It won’t matter if he makes it a command. Clint has to do this on his own.

“I… I promise…” Clint says carefully.

It’s not really late Phil decides to go to bed, but Clint is still healing and needs the rest. Even more important, it’s the first time Clint has to sleep unassisted by drugs or subspace since being tortured and Phil wants to be awake enough to deal properly with that.

The bed is too small for the two of them, but as long as Clint still needs as much physical contact as possible, they can make it work. When Clint gets better and does not need as much, they will have to find another solution. But since that solution might be Phil not taking care of Clint anymore, he doesn’t want to think about it yet.

In bed, Clint is between Phil and the wall behind the bed, to keep him as shielded as possible from the world. The room is dark and completely quiet except for their breathing. It is not so dark that Phil can’t see how Clint’s eyes keep opening ever few minutes.

“You are safe…” Phil whispers, pulling Clint a little closer. “I’m here… I’m going to keep you safe… You can sleep…”

“I’m sorry…” Clint’s breathing is jagged and wet. “I can’t… I’m sorry…”

“Hey no, don’t apologize… Shh… It’s okay to be scared… You can be scared… Just breathe for me, okay?” Phil gently grabs Clint’s neck, guiding the archers face into the crook of his own neck, hiding him from the world. His grip is firm enough that Clint has to push to get away, but he doesn’t. He just grabs onto Phil and clings to him like he is the only thing in the world.

Phil stays awake for a long time, holding Clint and whispering gentle words of protection and safety. It’s well past midnight when Clint stops shaking and his breathing evens out. Phil doesn’t sleep much, too concerned with making sure Clint is getting the rest he needs. It’s an uneasy night. More than once Phil has to grab Clint’s hands to prevent him from making angry red marks at his neck, clawing at a collar that still exists in his mind.


	6. Acceptance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it Wednesday?
> 
> Not really. But I'm watching Eurovision, so I'm up late :)

Waking up surprises Clint. Well, it is surprising in the way that he didn’t think he would be able to sleep at all. Even with the echoes of nightmares still lingering under his skin, he feels rested and safe, still wrapped in Phil’s arms.

The agent is asleep, but he doesn’t look as peaceful as last time. He can’t have slept much. Clint faintly remembers a voice whispering softly as he finally drifted of last night. He remembers Phil holding him and hiding him from the world. Even with everything that happened, Phil makes him feel safe. Phil always made him feel safe.

Phil was the real reason he left the circus to join S.H.I.E.L.D. Back then he had been sure he would never make it to field agent and he had been content to get a desk job if he got just go to see Phil once in a while. Clint only had to meet Phil once to fall completely in love with him. Phil, however, was not content with Clint being at a desk and worked hard to make him an active field agent. Before anyone else, Phil had though Clint capable of being on Alpha Team.

Did he still think that? Did the rest of the team? Phil had said he wasn’t fired, but that didn’t mean he was still on the team. He had worked so hard to get to where he was. Phil hadn’t said anything and Clint really hoped it was not just to spare him the pain for later. But it seemed unlikely that Phil would do that. He is usually very good at getting the bad news out of the way.

Clint bites the inside of his cheek to chase the thoughts away. He is not ready to deal with a future where he is no longer part of Alpha Team. Instead, he opens his eyes and let them adjust to the faint light. Even with the door closed the room doesn’t get completely dark during the day. The light is not so bad now where he is not going to fall back asleep.

Like last morning he just stays still in the bed, watching Phil sleep and turns his mind in the agent’s direction. He can do that. Phil still has not told him that he wants too much even if Clint keeps wanting more. It seems the perfect solution, except for the fact the Clint can no longer figure out how to function when Phil leaves. If he leaves…

_“I was there every time Coulson collapsed on the floor because he would not sleep until you got back.”_

They had been worried about him, all of them. But Phil is always so calm and collected, so composed and in control. Knowing that he would exhaust himself like that for Clint is humbling and a little terrifying.

_“Why is that not already a thing? He obviously likes you.”_

He knows how much Phil cares, even of the agent has never been obvious about his feeling. Clint just knows him too well to ignore the signs. He never wanted to be a burden for Phil, even if he felt the same way.

Clint is slowly starting to realize that asking Phil to stay is not a question of Phil wanting to stay, but of if Clint will allow himself to let Phil stay.

_“Maybe it’s not about what you deserve, it’s about what they deserve!”_

Phil deserves the best of everything and Clint will never be able to give him any of that. Phil can get someone so much better than Clint. He has never been a good sub and now he might not be able to follow commands anymore. He did when Phil commanded him, but it had been a choice, not a compulsion.

_“Shouldn’t it be his choice?”_

If he let Phil choose, would he stay? Would it be too much to ask? But Phil had said… He promised to say stop if Clint got too greedy.

_“Shouldn’t it be his choice?”_

“Clint?”

He jumps a little and Phil has to grab his arms to keep himself from falling off the bed.

“Whoa, easy…” Phil says, regaining his balance.

“I’m sorry! I’s so sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Clint grabs Phil’s shoulders to help keep him on the bed.

“It’s okay… You looked like you were far away…” Phil says, looking at him with searching eyes.

“I… Yeah… I was thinking about something Tony said…” Clint says, biting his lip. Phil tilts his head a little. “Anything you want to share?”

“Yes… It’s… It’s about you… And I…” He has no idea how to express this part. Allowing himself to feel this, to want this, it still seems like too much. How can he ever expect Phil to feel anything for someone so broken?

“Just take your time…” Phil says. He is very still, maybe because he thinks any movement would scare Clint away. He could very well be right.

“I want you to stay… I… I want… Will you be my dom, please? I need… I need you…” Clint whispers. If Phil is going to safe word, it will be now. Clint has no idea what to do if he does.

For a long time, Phil doesn’t talk. He just looks at Clint. Then he runs his fingers over Clint’s cheek. “You know I will… I’ve been waiting for you for years Clint…”

Phil is smiling. He is so close. Clint might be smiling too, he’s not sure. It takes too much concentration to lean closer, to cover Phil’s mouth with his own, to kiss him for the first time.

For a moment, it’s wonderful and everything he ever wanted. Everything he never deserved. The thought is physically painful and he has to grab tighter, has to move in closer and get as much as possible before Phil realizes it too and it all ends.

Phil pushes him away and Clint lets out a desperate sound. He never knew how much loosing something he just got could hurt.

“Easy, Clint, breathe. You need to breathe for me, okay? I need you to breathe.” Phil’s voice is worried, talking a little faster than normally. There is an edge of command to his tone.

It’s harder than it should be and Clint has to close his eyes to focus on filling his lungs.

“There you go, easy now. In… Out… Slow and steady, that’s good… That’s really good… You are doing so good… I need you to open your eyes now and look at me… I need you to really listen…” Phil’s voice is steady and calm, not really a command but almost. It takes a breath before Clint can open his eyes again.

“You can have this Clint… You can have me, everything I am is yours, I promise… There is no ones else for me… But you have to breathe, okay? I need you to be okay. I’m here… I’m not going anywhere…” Phil’s voice is filled with honesty and he puts a gentle hand on Clint’s cheek. It makes breathing easier. It makes everything easier.

“I’m going to kiss you now, okay? I’ll keep kissing you until you stop me or your breathing becomes uneven, do you understand?”

Clint nods, unable to take his eyes from Phil’s. The kiss is slow and gentle. He still feels scared that he will loose everything, but Phil does not move away this time. Like he said, he stays close, holding Clint and kissing him until Clint pulls away a little. “I… I don’t… I’m not…”

“Breathe…” Phil’s voice is as patient as ever. “It’s okay… I’m right here… We’re okay…”

Clint closes his eyes again, leaning his head against Phil’s shoulder and breathing deeply, savoring the familiar smell, the feeling of being so close to the one he loves so much. It feels like the first time.

“You’re safe…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be up thursday for two reasons.
> 
> 1\. This chapter is pretty short (but important), so I don't want to keep you waiting, and
> 
> 2\. I'll be at a convention all weekend, so no chapter friday.


	7. Aftermath, part one

”Steve… Stevie, please…”

”So demanding…”

”Fuck… Steeeve!”

He should have known, he really should. He learned quickly how much they love to tease each other, it was only a question of time before they turned on him. And it’s even his own fault for letting them tie him up.

“Be patient Tony. We’ll take good care of you…” Steve says, biting another mark into Tony’s chest. And Bucky, the fucker, is laughing!

Tony struggles in his bonds. He wants to kick that smirk right off his lover’s face, but when a special ops soldier ties you down, there is nothing to do.

“Aaw, poor thing.” Bucky says, licking Tony’s face and laughing again when Tony tries to get away from him. “You think we should be a little nice to him?”

Tony lets out a frustrated sound. Having them touching him, kissing him, tormenting him, while he is unable to do anything is not something Tony would ever have expected he would agree to. He trusted Pepper with much, his health, his company, but even with her he could never surrender his freedom like this.

With Bucky and Steve it’s different. He trusts them with so much more than his life even when it turns out to be a horrible decision.

“Yes, we probably should. Especially when he is so good for us.” Steve says, moving up to kiss Tony’s neck and jaw. “So perfect Tony. So fucking wonderful. Don’t know how we ever managed to live without you.”

Tony moans, but the sound disappears when Steve kisses him firmly. It’s hot and demanding and keeps going for so long that Tony looses sight of anything but the taste of Steve. Which is why he is so surprised when a cool metal hand closes around his cock. The surprise makes him bite down into Steve’s lip, but the soldier doesn’t even slow down.

Bucky’s hand is skilled and nimble and soon followed by his mouth. By then Tony is glad to be restrained. He would probably be flailing wildly if he was not. Steve’s hands are roaming his body and his mouth is still stifling any sounds Tony makes.

When Tony comes, Steve’s mouth is not enough to keep Tony quiet. Afterwards he drifts pleasantly, not really aware of what is happening.

He comes back to himself nestled between Steve and Bucky, wrapped in soft blankets and warm bodies. It surprises him how quickly the feeling has come to mean home. The lights coming in the window tells him it’s sometime in the afternoon. His arms and legs have been untied so he can move again.

It’s been a week since they got Barton back and they have been in bed for most of it. They don’t have sex all the time (but a lot and Tony has no problems with that), mostly they just lie together, enjoying the fact that they are together and safe.

From the soft breathing next to him, Tony can tell that Bucky is asleep, both arms wrapped around Tony’s midriff. It makes him glad he made the metal arm better at temperature adaption, even if it is still colder than the right one. He could make it better. Maybe a sensor to measure the temperature and a small heat source to…

His thoughts are brought to a halt by the gentle fingers combing through his hair.

“You’re thinking very loudly sweetheart…” Steve says softly.

“I was just…” Tony starts, turning to look at Steve, who has that very patient I’m-being-overbearing-with-you-because-you-are-adorable-smile he gets sometimes when Tony starts talking shop. “It can wait…”

“Good.” Steve leans in, kissing him gently. “How are you feeling? We weren’t too mean to you, were we?”

It always amazes Tony how fast Steve can change from confident commander to worried boyfriend. It’s incredible endearing.

“No, of course not.” Tony says. “If I had wanted you to stop, I would have made you stop, you know that.” He has safe words. They all do. It’s necessary, because sometimes they need everything to stop and can’t explain why. It rarely happens, luckily, and so far they have always respected the safe words.

“I know, I just… You’re sure?” Steve asks. Tony smiles and kisses him. “It was good baby. I liked it. I might even want to try again.”

“You getting ready for round two without me?” Bucky asks sleepily, kissing the skin over Tony’s ribs.

“No.” Steve says firmly, but he can’t hide a smile. “No round two. We need to get up and visit Clint.”

Bucky lets out a long, complaining noise and rolls to his back. “But I’m warm and comfortable!” He whines.

“And you will be again tonight.” Steve says completely unapologetic as he gets up from the bed. Tony laughs and kisses the pout off Bucky’s lips.

Getting Bucky out of bed is always the most time consuming task of the day and when he is finally on his feet, they quickly get ready to leave.

Phil opens the door when they knock, proving that the agent has been there since Tony left after bringing Clint home from the hospital. That knowledge is a great comfort to Tony after seeing how much Clint needed him. Hopefully the archer has realised that too by now.

Clint himself is curled up on the couch with both feet under him. He looks better than before, but still a off. Tony vividly remembers his own withdrawal and how long it took to get back from that. He had two doms to help him. Clint only has Phil.

“Hey Clint.” Tony says. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m… Better? But not really okay…” Clint says with a trying smile. “I think I’m getting there…”

“It takes time…” Steve says, sitting down on the couch.

“Are you… Um… How’s the team?” Clint asks.

“We’re fine.” Steve assures him, even if Tony knows it’s not exactly true. “We are taking some time off to get properly rested after… You know…”

Clint nods. They all need rest. Tony notices that Phil stays close to Clint, standing behind him with a hand resting on his neck. Clint looks considerably calmed by the touch.

The talk turns to what has happened at S.H.I.E.L.D. while Clint was gone and what they have done with their time off.

After a while, Phil goes to the kitchen to make dinner and Steve and Bucky goes with him. Tony looks after them for a moment. “Leaving the subs to deal with themselves, huh?”

Clint smiles. “They mean well.”

“I know.” Tony says, turning to Clint and looking at him carefully. “How are you doing with Phil?”

“I… Um… Good… Really good…” Clint looks down, blushing slightly.

“Yeah?” Tony smiles. “So you talked with him?”

“I did… I… I asked him to stay… I… Need him to stay…” Clint looks at his hands, fidgeting a little with the hem of his shirt.

“I told you he liked you.” Tony says with an even brighter smile.

“Yeah, he… Um… How are you? And Bucky and Steve? After what happened…” Clint says and Tony lets him change the subject. For now.

“They need time. Like you do. It was pretty traumatic, but seeing you being safe and getting better definitely helps. We came here as much for them as for you today.” Tony tells him.

Clint nods, still tearing at his shirt. His hands are shaking slightly.

“Are you okay?” Tony asks, his brow furrowed.

“I’m fine…” Clint says, still not looking at him. “Tell me about your work. How are you changing the world this week?”

Again, Tony lets him change the subject and tells him about work until the tremor in Clint’s arm becomes too violent to ignore.

“You are not okay.” He says calmly, before raising his voice. “Agent. Could you come in here?”

Phil is there in a second, sitting down next to Clint and putting his arms around him. “I’m here. What’s wrong? Clint?”

“’m sorry…” Clint whispers, hiding his face in Phil’s shirt and grabbing on to him like a drowning man. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”

“No no, hey, don’t apologize.” Phil says gently, holding Clint close and placing a kiss to his temple. “Don’t apologise. I’m here. It’s okay. You’re okay. Shh… You’re okay…”

Tony looks away, feeling like an intruder on something so very private. He gets up, quiet as he can, and leaves for the kitchen. Both Bucky and Steve look worried and ready to assist in any way they can, but Tony shakes his head. “They just… Need a moment…”

Bucky nods, returning to whatever he was chopping, and Steve puts an arm around Tony. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I just… I know what it’s like…” Tony says quietly.

Steve pulls him in closer. “You never have to feel like that again baby, I promise. We’ll take care of you.”

Tony smiles, leaning into his lover. Since they became part of his life, he has rarely felt anything but safe and loved. It’s still new for him, but he is starting to understand that this is his life now.

After a moment, Clint and Phil appear in the kitchen. Clint’s eyes are red and he keeps them on the floor. Phil stays close to him, keeping a hand on his arm.

“I’m sorry…” Clint says. It’s not very loud, but everyone has stopped what they were doing to pay attention to him. “I’m not… I’m not this… I can take care of myself… I just…”

“You feel fragile.” Tony says, just as quietly. “Your skin is aching and you feel cold if you are alone for too long.”

Clint nods, still not raising his eyes from the floor. Bucky looks a little surprised and Steve tightens his grip on Tony. Most doms have no idea what sub withdrawal feels like and even if Tony is pretty sure Bucky and Steve would want to know, Tony has never told them before.

“You don’t have to take care of yourself anymore. You are not alone.” Phil says gently, stepping a little closer to Clint. “I’m here…”

“I know…” Clint lets out a long breath. “I just… I’m sorry…”

“Shhh…” Phil turns Clint a little so they are standing face to face, tilting his head up so the archer is forced to meet his eyes. “No more of that. Just sit down and rest while we finish dinner, okay?”

Clint nods and sits down by the kitchen table. While Bucky and Steve return to their tasks immediately, maybe feeling a little awkward watching their boss and their friend being so intimate, Tony watches Clint for a moment and he is the only one to notice that Clint’s eyes are a little glassy and unfocused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter this week, so I hope you like it.
> 
> Next one will be up monday :)


	8. Aftermath, part two

No one expects him to pay attention while they prepare dinner, which is good, because it takes a little time for Clint’s mind to stop being fuzzy. Phil had told him to stop. It hadn’t even been a command, just a gentle request. It’s still enough. Knowing that Phil is there to stop him if he goes too far is such a huge relief that he can barely focus, so it’s a good thing he doesn’t have to.

When Tony is done setting the table (with a lot of help from Steve, because apparently at home he lets his robots or servants do it or something), Clint is able to participate in the conversation again.

They talk about work and what S.H.I.E.L.D. will do without its top team until Tony gets bored and start talking about a new invention he’s making. It’s a suit of some kind. Bucky just shakes his head a little and Steve smiles very patiently, no doubt having heard all of it several times before.

After dinner, they move to the couch and Clint automatically sits next to Phil, but can’t bring himself to touch him until Tony practically throws himself in Bucky’s lap, placing his legs on Steve. Both men seem surprised, but neither say anything and Bucky just starts playing with Tony’s hair. While Tony does not hide his affection for the two soldiers, he is normally not this obvious about it. Clint knows it’s for his sake and it helps. It makes it easier to lean into Phil’s side and accept the arm put around him without being embarrassed.

The evening is pleasant, even if Clint looses thread of the conversation more than once. It’s early when Phil calls it a night, but Clint is grateful. He is still scattered enough to be exhausted after the short visit and the thought of going to bed is making him anxious. Phil definitely helps, but closing his eyes to sleep still brings a ringing to Clint’s ears that terrifies him.

He is too distracted to say a proper farewell to his friends and when the door is locked behind them, Phil just pulls him into a hug and holds him close. It’s not until he takes a deep breath filled with the familiar smell that he realizes he had started to hyperventilate.

“You’re okay…” Phil whispers gently. “It’s going to be all right, but it’s okay if you are scared… There is nothing wrong with being scared, just keep breathing, okay?”

Clint nods, closing his eyes firmly so he can focus on the sound and the smell. It’s safe. Phil keeps him safe.

It still takes a few minutes before he is able to let go and open his eyes again. When he does, Phil pulls him back in for a kiss that ground Clint far more than his own breathing did.

“Are you ready?” Phil asks carefully.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Clint says. Phil just nods and takes his hand. From there to the bed, Phil doesn’t let go of him, even if it makes brushing their teeth a little problematic. They both know that Clint would start panicking again if he did.

“Just focus on me.” Phil says when they are in bed, Clint pressed as close to him as physically possible. “I’m right here. We’re together. I’m going to be here every time you wake up. You are safe. You are home, you are safe, you can sleep.”

It helps. Hearing Phil’s voice, feeling him so close. It helps when Clint hides his face in Phil’s neck, making it impossible to see anything even with his eyes open. It helps that Phil holds him so firmly that he can hardly move. It helps, but Clint is still shaking and crying in Phil’s arms, overcome by memories and fear. It’s okay to be scared. Phil just holds him closer.

In the end, the crying helps a little. When there are no more tears, his body and mind are exhausted. Phil is whispering gently into his ear, promising to keep him safe, promising to be there. The words finally reach Clint, even if they seem to be farther and farther away. When he does fall asleep it’s to the sound of Phil’s voice. It has been ever since he came home.

His sleep is filled with nightmares, but for once none of them wake him up. When he does open his eyes, he has no idea of the time. The room is completely dark most of the time to help Clint sleep and his phone is on the nightstand somewhere behind Phil, whom Clint is still completely entangled with. Phil is sleeping soundly and Clint does his best not to move.

It almost seems like routine by now. Clint crying until he finally falls asleep, Phil staying awake until he is sure Clint is sleeping, Clint waking up to watch Phil sleep. He likes the last part of that the most. He actually enjoys that part.

He has been watching Phil a lot lately. Because he can. Because Phil is his dom now. Because they might be in a relationship. Clint is not really sure about that, but he does not have the energy to ask yet. They haven’t done more than kiss. Clint doesn’t have the energy for anything more either. He hopes he will soon. He wants more.

It doesn’t feel as bad to want more now. Phil is there. Phil stops him if he wants too much. Phil will take care of him. Phil is the most wonderful man in the world.

Clint might have moved a little, because Phil opens his eyes and leans over to kiss him with a tired, half-awake smile. “’Morning.”

“Is it?” Clint says, smiling a little. Phil laughs and turns so he can grab his phone from the nightstand. “No, it’s… God, it’s almost lunchtime…” Phil looks genuinely surprised. Clint knows the agent doesn’t sleep in on his own, but staying awake to watch over Clint must be taking its toll on him.

“We should get some food.” Phil says, putting the phone away again. Clint stretches as carefully as possible and nods. “Yeah… Food sounds good…”

While they eat, Clint sits on the floor, letting Phil feed him. He doesn’t feel embarrassed about it anymore, not with Phil.

He is drifting a little at the end, making it hard to form coherent thoughts, until Phil leaves to clean up the plates. Clint stays on the floor, leaning on the couch. Phil has already given him so much, but Clint still wants more. It feels greedy. But he promised Phil to tell him what he wanted.

When Phil comes back, Clint is lucid enough to know what he needs.

“Phil…” His voice seems very small and insecure. Phil stops and gives Clint his undivided attention, which makes the archer look away. “Will you… Will you tie my hands? Please?”

Phil looks at him for a long time. Clint finally looks at him again, understanding what is making the agent pause. “They… They didn’t… Nat was the last to tie me up… I… I need it sometimes…”

“Okay…” Phil nods slowly. “Okay, if it’s what you want.”

He goes to the closet and comes back with a length of soft rope. He sits on the floor in front of Clint, while Clint explains how he should do it.

“I… I’m sorry I’m so demanding…” Clint says quietly once Phil starts tying the rope around his wrists.

“It’s no wonder that you are, really…” Phil says, looking up from Clint’s hands to meet his eyes. “You have never gotten everything you needed before, so your body responded by trying to get as much as possible at every opportunity. That’s why you go under for so long, because your body is trying to make up for the deficiency. You then tried to correct that by never asking for any more than absolutely necessary to get by. It’s a downward spiral that keeps reinforcing itself because you never let yourself get what you need.”

Clint has to look away. It makes sense. He always tried not to ask for too much. He can’t remember a time when he wasn’t aching for… Something… He learned how to manage it, how to live with it, how to hide it, but it never went away.

“We are going to end that now Clint.” Phil continues gently, tightening the rope a little around Clint’s arms. “I’ll give you everything you need. You don’t have to feel like this anymore.”

The words fill his mind as Clint sways slightly. He is already floating, feeling controlled and protected. He hears the words, but for now, their meaning is lost on him. Phil ties his arms firmly before sitting back on the couch, placing a warm hand on Clint’s neck. Clint’s eyes roll back as he goes under completely.

When he starts coming back, he is lying down, his hands unbound and Phil’s arms wrapped tightly around him. He has no sense of time and still feels pretty dazed, so he just stays where he is, listening to the quiet breathing behind him.

He feels completely relaxed, not at all like when he tries to go to sleep in the evening. If nothing were to disturb them, he could probably stay like this for days.

Something does disturb them eventually. A phone buzzes on the table behind them and wakes Phil up. There is never any sound on their phones when Clint sleeps, because he can’t handle being awakened by sounds yet, but the buzzing is mostly okay.

Phil turns to get the phone and Clint takes advantage of that to snuggle in a little closer and pillow his head on Phil’s chest, making the agent hum gently.

“It’s yours…” He says, handing the phone to Phil. Clint takes it and opens the text from Natasha.

**Nat** : Pad Thai or Pad Sea Eaw?

Clint smiles a little, adjusting himself on his back so he can answer comfortably.

**Clint** : Both.  
**Nat** : Hungry hungry Hawkeye :) Be there in 30.

“Nat is coming over with take out.” He says, turning to face Phil, who is smiling and running a hand through Clint’s hair.

“Seems like we have to get out of bed then…” Phil says.

“How did we even get into bed?” Clint asks, sitting up. He remembers nothing after Phil put a hand on his neck.

“I carried you. I hope you don’t mind. I untied your arms after a while, I didn’t want the ropes to hurt you. Then I took you in here.” Phil stands up and turns on the dim light.

“No, I… I didn’t even notice…” Clint says, sitting on the edge of the bed, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“You were far gone.” Phil says, gently placing a hand on Clint’s cheek, tilting his head up. Clint leans into the touch and for once doesn’t feel greedy at all. Phil smiles and kisses him softly.

“So, ropes. Something you like or something you need?” Phil asks.

“Um… Both? I like to feel… Controlled…” Clint says, feeling the blush creep up over his face. Phil just smiles and kisses him again. “Okay. I can work with that. Anything else I should know?”

“I… I don’t do pain… Only as punishment… But I can’t…” He looks away. Phil’s hand is gently combing through his hair and he is quiet for a moment. He has to know. Phil was the one to put Clint’s personnel file together, to do his background check.

“Of course. I don’t like inflicting pain.” Phil says softly, kneeling down in front of Clint. “I want to be your safe haven Clint. I want you to feel protected and loved with me. I don’t want to hurt you.”

The words set of a wonderful buzzing under his skin and it takes Clint a moment to realize the implications of them. “Do… Do you… Love me?” He asks breathlessly.

Phil smiles, putting a hand on Clint’s cheek and holding his eyes. “You know I do.”

For a moment, Clint can’t breathe and it has nothing to do with anxiety. Then he falls to his knees in front of Phil, putting his arms around him and kisses him like there is nothing else in the world.

When he has to stop to breathe again, he still holds on firmly to Phil. “I love you too. I do. I love you.” Clint whispers, loosing the last of his secrets.

Phil hums softly, running a hand up and down Clint’s back, holding the other man close.

“No one else…” Phil whispers.

They both get rather startled by the knock on the door.

“Nat… I better…” Clint scrambles to his feet, going out to open the door. On the other side he finds Natasha, holding a bag of take out and looking at him expectantly. “Who’s been taking care of you?”

For the first time, Clint has an answer. “Phil has.” He says, unable to hide his smile.

Natasha smiles broadly and hugs him, before going into the apartment.

Phil comes put of the bedroom to greet Natasha, earning a smug smile from her before she starts setting the food on the table.

Dinner is comfortable. Natasha tells about her time off and her days with Bruce. Phil lets his hand rest on Clint’s knee most of the time. It’s a simple gesture, but it makes it so much easier to follow the thread of the conversation.

When they are done eating, Phil goes to take a shower and Natasha drags Clint to the couch, placing her legs in his lap and leaning on the armrest.

“So…. How are you doing?” She asks slowly, her green eyes sparkling. It’s a very different question from what Tony asked.

“I’m… I’m good… Phil is… It’s really good…” Clint says.

“Is he taking good care of you?” She asks, raising an eyebrow.

“He’s… We’re not… He just takes care of me when I go under… We haven’t…” Clint stammers.

“But you want to.” Natasha says. It’s not even a question, she knows him too well.

“I do.” Clint smiles shyly. “I really do. But I think… I need some time… After everything… It’s too much… Do you think he will mind?”

Natasha actually laughs at that. “He’s been waiting for you since you became an agent, I think he can wait a little longer to make sure you feel ready. Have you talked to him about it?”

“No, I… Not yet… But he… He told me he loves me…” Clint smiles, staring into space, remembering the moment. Natasha sits up and hugs him closely. “I’m glad. You deserve to be loved.”

Natasha leaves some time later, giving Clint a hug and a kiss on the cheek before going out the door. Phil puts a hand on his shoulder when the door closes. “How are you feeling?”

Clint leans back into Phil, humming softly. “I’m good… I’m… Really happy…”

“I’m glad.” Phil says, putting his arms around Clint and kissing his hair.

“Phil, I…” Clint turns in Phil’s arms, so they are face to face. “I need to tell you… I want you… I want us to… I want to be with you, but I… I need time… There is so much and I… I can’t…”

Phil shuts him up with a kiss.

“I know.” He says, when he lets go of Clint again. “I never expected anything more to happen yet. I told you, I’m a patient man. Nothing has to happen before you are ready for it.”

Clint sags a little into Phil, letting out a breath. Phil makes everything easier. Clint has no idea how he got so lucky.

Going to bed that night is a little better, but still not pleasant. Clint doesn’t cry this time, but he does shake a little and stay awake for a long time before giving in to sleep.

The days slowly become easier. Going to sleep is still terrifying, but Phil is always there with him, holding him and telling him he is safe. There are many nightmares, but Phil is there for them too.

Phil brings Clint under for several hours every day, never complaining about it, just holding him or petting his hair and neck until Clint comes back to himself. For the first time he can remember, Clint is starting to feel balanced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back :) One chapter left of this story. It will be up on Wednesday.
> 
> If you are at all curious to see what I looked like this weekend or just want to say hi somewhere else, I am also mizdiablo on Instagram :)


	9. Archer

It takes a week and a half before Clint starts to get restless. He might even whine a little to Phil about it. In the end, Phil agrees to go to the S.H.I.E.L.D. shooting range with him and Clint texts Bucky and Tony, asking them to join. He has been teaching Bucky to shoot bow and arrow for some time now. At first, Clint had tried to teach Tony too, but when it became clear that Tony could not hit a barn with a basketball from five feet away, he left the engineer to watch as he focused on teaching Bucky. After a while Tony started bringing something small from his workshop to tinker with while they trained.

This time, he has brought a large case that he slams into the table in front of them. Clint looks at it. “Did you bring your entire suit this time?”

“Not at all my Sherwoodian friend. This is something else entirely.” Tony says with a bright smile, opening the case. Inside is a long piece of something that looks like plastic and two smaller containers filled with what looks like sticks.

Tony takes the large piece up, flicks his wrist and the plastic unfolds into a black compound bow. It’s a little shorter than the one Clint uses for training and looks light and sturdy at the same time.

“Try it out.” Tony says, almost giddy with excitement, as he hands the bow to Clint.

“Tony, is that…” Clint pauses, not moving to take to bow.

“Yes yes, I know, I’m amazing and wonderful. Now try it! I can’t test it myself, so you have to tell me if it needs any adjustments.” Tony says, taking out one of the small containers. It turns out they are filled with special arrows.

Clint finally takes to bow, nocking an arrow and pulling the string. It’s a too little tight, probably because it has never been used, but he can feel the power even before he lets go of the string. While Tony does tell Clint what the bow is made of (some kind of super durable poly-whatever), Clint hardly listens. He is too preoccupied with the bow. It is stronger than the one he normally uses and the range is impressive.

The arrow flies true, hitting the center of the target with a loud thud.

Tony lets out a little yay and pulls another arrows out. “Try this one next. Push the button on the handle, there.”

He shows Clint a series of buttons on the bows handle and how to use them. Clint sends the next arrow flying, making it hit next to the first one. For a moment nothing happens.

Then the target explodes.

Everybody jumps, but only Tony lets out an excited whoop. The three S.H.I.E.L.D. agents are already scanning the area for enemies, but then they realize what happened. Bucky starts laughing, Clint is smiling and Phil just shakes his head.

It turns out that Tony has made a range of different arrows, all controlled by the buttons on the grip of the bow. They range from trackers to explosives with several other options in-between. It takes hours to test them all and before long, both Bucky and Phil are just watching Clint shoot.

Clint hardly notices. The new bow is amazing. Sometimes Tony asks him about something, if he wants any changes, if anything feels off, but mostly he just shoots arrow after arrow until Phil puts a gentle hand on his arm. Clint is surprised to see him stand so close. He didn’t hear Phil approach.

“You need a break.” Phil says with a small smile.

“Oh… Right…” Clint puts the bow down and takes the bottle of water Phil is handing him. His arms and back are aching from the strain, but he wasn’t aware of that until he stopped.

He sits down next to Tony, who is rapidly taking notes on his StarkPad.

“Tony, this is… Why did you make this?” Clint asks.

“You told me S.H.I.E.L.D. didn’t think of you bow as a useful weapon, even if you were better with it than with a gun. I wanted to prove them wrong.” Tony says, looking up from his pad.

“Well, this is certainly useful.” Clint says with a smile, handing the bow back to Tony, who folds it and puts it back in the case. “I should be done with the changes in a few days, then we need to test it again. I’m hoping we’ll be done by the time you return to work.”

“By the… Why?” Clint asks, confused. An expression that’s mirrored in Tony’s face, when he looks up again. “Because... It’s for you… Didn’t you get that? I made it for you. What would I do with a bow and arrows?”

“Oh…” Clint looks at the case. He just thought Tony needed an archer to test his equipment, he never dreamed that equipment would be for him. “But Tony, that’s… I… It looks really expensive…”

Tony just waves his hand. “Please. I spend more on a suit than I did on this. You missed using the bow. If you are as good as you say, you should use it in the field.”

“I… Thank you…” Clint smiles and has to look away. Phil gently squeezes his shoulder. Tony doesn’t seem to notice, still tapping away at his pad. “No problem…”

Suddenly he feels exhausted. Phil’s hand is still on his shoulder, supporting him. He must be swaying, because Phil grabs both his arms. “We should get home.”

Clint just nods. Tony looks surprised for a moment, but then he seems to understand. “Right. Of course. I need to get back and work on this too. Clint, if you can come by my workshop sometime, we’ll look at some of the adjustments there.”

“Yeah… Okay…” Clint smiles at him. “Thank you Tony…”

“Don’t mention it Legolas.” Tony winks at him, but the smile is far more heartfelt than the glib words.

Phil gets him home. By then, Clint is too tired to pay attention, but it doesn’t matter. Phil will take care of him. Being able to rely on Phil makes it so much easier to breathe.

Phil helps him out of his clothes and rubs his aching arms and back, making the world fade away. When they go to bed, Clint barely feels anxious to he closes his eyes and he falls asleep after mere seconds, safe in Phil’s embrace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it, last chapter of Deserving.
> 
> But, not the end :) Have a look below at the nice little arrow pointing to the next part of this series.
> 
> Also, I seem to work well on prompts, so if there is anything you want to see, let me know and I'll take it into consideration.


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